Dance With the Devil
by Kristin Elizabeth Owens
Summary: Draco meets a girl in London, who is as beautiful as she is mysterious, & their bond pulls even when they are miles apart. Will they dance with the devil & come out on top or will they be seperated forever. Rated M for later chptrs. Not HBP/DH friendly
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything written in this chapter or any chapter after this one

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He had turned seventeen over the summer. . . on the same day as his nemesis, Harry Potter, though he'd never have admitted it. His mother and father had always held his celebrations on a different day because of the association it may have caused. Not even his closest friends knew the real date.

He had grown not only in age, but in body as well, as proved by his tall, sculpted frame. Every muscle was taught and hard. He was no longer lanky or thin. His white-blonde hair was now cropped short; he ran his fingers through it and messed it up in spikes.

He had developed in ideals as well. He'd realized some time ago that his father's morals were wrong. His ways were dark. He wasn't exactly sure he'd ever believed in the Dark Arts. It was, by his reckoning, fear that had held him in the Dark path he was so accustomed to now. But fear, he no longer felt.

With his maturity, his powers had also grown. He held enough power now to rival every wizard he personally knew, and even some that had gone down in the history books. He surpassed his father in power. His father would not force him down a path of destruction.

So much had changed. So much was different. He was so different. He wanted to be good. He wanted to forget most of the things that his father had taught him. He would try; it was all he _could_ do.

Draco Malfoy sat pondering with his fingers laced and his elbows resting on the table. His thumbs rested on his lips and the silver crest of his family gleamed in the gloomy summer light. He often wondered why it was so dark these days. Could it be the return of the Dark Lord? His black V-neck t-shirt was almost too light for the temperature. His black leather jacked rested on the back of his chair. It was as if the whole world was depressed. . . or oppressed. He looked at his watch. He'd been here for some time, he realized as he took a sip of his coffee. Crabbe and Goyle should've been here by now. _The imbeciles probably got caught_, he thought.

It was their practice to sneak away to London ever so often. Draco would never confess it, but he liked to surround himself with muggles on occasion. It made him feel normal. It made him feel powerful. He felt a longing for it every day. That was one thing that Harry Potter had that he didn't.

Draco had learned not to hate Harry over the past year. There was no love lost between them, sure, but he no longer wanted to see him defeated or worse. He envied Harry the company he kept. He envied the love that everyone felt for the Boy Who Lived. He wanted not the adoration, but the intelligent companionship that Harry Potter's friends gave him. What he wouldn't give to have intelligence surround him. He was sick of the dimwitted duo that followed him like puppies waiting to be given orders. It irritated him so.

He glanced at his watch again. They weren't going to show. He might have figured as much. He dropped some muggle money onto the table, motioned at the waitress that it was there, and rose to leave. Slouching on his jacket he jerked the collar up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded relaxed fit jeans and walked out the door. Draco kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk with his biker boots, stalling, wishing he didn't have to head back to his home. That was the worst part of these escapades.

Draco looked up and down the street, trying to decide if there was something else he could do to waste time. He felt it then: something wrapped around his shin. Looking down, he saw a scarf the color of blood, made of the softest, most thin material he'd ever seen. It was intriguing. He sensed a faint scent, but could not tell exactly what it was. He lifted it close to his face and inhaled. It was like cinnamon and apples, but more . . . floral? He wasn't quite sure . . .it was unique.

It then occurred to him to look around for the owner. With all the people around, he almost missed her. Turning a corner down the block, she was walking away from him at a quick pace. Her fur covered boots and white jacket stood out enough in the crowd of dark garments, if the cranberry colored toboggan wasn't enough to keep track of her.

Draco started off quickly in her direction. Something inside told him not to let it go easily. Someone knocked him off course and he just knew he'd lost her. He began to jog and wheeled around the corner she'd turned. To both of their immediate surprise, he crashed right into her, nearly falling himself, but twisting and regaining balance perfectly to catch her as she fell. The way he held her with his left arm was as if he'd dipped her while they were dancing. Their eyes locked.

Draco was taken aback. He was trapped in her gaze. He felt paralyzed as he took in her beautiful face. Her rose colored lips were parted ever so slightly, glazed a little and shining in the pale light. Her skin was perfect. Flawless and pale, it was like malleable porcelain. He resisted the urge to brush it gently with his free hand. Her eyes were like liquid topaz, almost honey colored, with flecks of gold in them. He eyelashes were long and curved and brushed her cheeks as she blinked. Her hair was long and straight, like satin, caramel and spilled over his arm as he held her. Her scent of cinnamon and apples overpowered his senses to the point that he had to fight himself to keep from kissing her. She was angelic.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity, something flashed in her eyes. It was anger. She wiggled free and stood up, straightening her jacket, and looking off put. Draco straightened before trying to speak.

"I'm sorry-" he started.

"I'd hope so. That was very ru-"she notice the scarf then and grabbed at her neck. She narrowed her eyes. "Where did you get that?"

Draco frowned as if confused. He tilted his head sideways. He then remembered the scarf he had been chasing her to return. He offered it as if searching for words.

"It- uh – I found it . . ,"he said gauging her reaction, "I was trying to return it. . ."

She snatched it and frowned. She looked at him as if questioning his motives.

"Why?" she asked. He shoved his hands back in his pockets.

"I'm not sure," he mumbled, "I, uh, I just figured it looked special and you might want it back."

Her mouth bobbed open and shut several times before she actually closed it. She looked confused. Putting the scarf in her pocket, she looked a Draco, pursed her lips and began to walk away. She stopped and turned back. Draco opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

"Thank you," she said, frowning as if she wasn't sure what to say. He nodded as she began to walk away again. Something in his heart wouldn't let him let her walk away.

"Wait," he said, gently grabbing her arm. She turned and looked at his hand, and then his face. He was almost speechless. _Why does it seem like she dislikes having to thank me? Why does she seem so familiar?_, he asked himself. He was sure he'd never see her again after this. He had never gone after a girl like this. He'd never felt pulled to any one of the many that had been in his past.

"Would you . . .lets go get something to eat . . . or some coffee?" he asked, sheepishly.

She looked torn. She rocked back and forth, towards him and away from him. She looked at him again, making eye contact with him for the first time since he caught her. As soon as their eyes met, the tense undecision that had engulfed them faded as suddenly as it had come about. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. They headed toward the restaurant down from where they had literally bumped into each other. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, warily. They walked in silence.

Draco got chills down his spine when they entered the restaurant. She seemed to be keeping her distance from him. He felt that something was starting . . . something life changing. He felt alive for the first time in a long time.

She remained quiet until the waitress came; she ordered a coke. Draco ordered the same. She studied her napkin silently for a long while. He watched her. She was fascinating. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. No matter how silly it sounded, no matter how impossible it was, he felt like he'd met her somewhere before. She glanced up through her eyelashes at him, making his heart speed up and slow down at the same time. He had never felt things like this. They confused him.

The waitress came to take their orders. She ordered the Tortilla Soup, he had the same. Funny she'd picked his favorite item at this restaurant. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then decided better of it. She frowned and opened her mouth again, then thought better of it . . . _again_. This amused Draco for some reason. He gave her a crooked grin and spoke.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" he said. She looked encouraged.

"Its funny that you ordered that . . ." she started, "I've been coming here with my parents since I was very small . . . that's all I've ever had here. Its my favorite." Draco was surprised. She had read his mind.

"I've been coming here since I was old enough to sneak away from home. Its my favorite too." She smiled a little at that.

"How old are you?" he asked. She frowned as if she expected him to know that already.

"Seventeen . . ." she replied. He got the feeling that the familiarity of her face should be way more obvious, but he couldn't place it.

"Where do you go to school?" he asked. Again, she frowned.

"Actually, I go to school at Hogwart's . . . with you . . ."she answered. His jaw dropped.

"So then you know who I am" he said, almost disappointedly. The anger she had shown earlier must have been because of that fact alone. She just added fuel to that fire.

"I do. And I know that you're probably the worst of the worst in Slytherin House." He cringed at that

"Please, don't think that . . ," he whispered. She looked surprised. Then remorseful.

"I'm sorry . . . You've always seemed so proud of being bad . . ." He looked up at her.

"I was . . . I'm not so certain anymore . . ."

He felt strange. He'd never opened up to anyone like this. He wasn't sure he liked that he wanted to tell this girl the truth when he didn't even know who she was. He ended the thread right there. He wouldn't expose his weaknesses to her yet . . . if ever.

"So why've I never seen you at school before?" he asked her. She took on a strange look, almost on of awe.

"I'm surprised you haven't," she replied vaguely.

"Fair enough . . ." he said.

Their food arrived. As they talked, they realized they had a lot more in common than they'd realized before. They'd talked about everything from parents, hers were non-magic, to classes, she was in advanced placement, as was he though no one realized it. They were both against the Dark Lord, which came as a surprise to her.

It was strange. He still hadn't asked her her name when they rose to leave. They'd both smiled after the ice was broken. She'd warmed up to him after a while. When they'd gotten to the door, she'd hesitated for just a second.

"Thank you for this," she started, looking at the floor. "I enjoyed it, actually."

"Your welcome," he said, smiling, "I had fun too." _I don't want you to go_, he thought.

"I guess I'll see you at school," she said as she took a step back. He grabbed her hand and looked at her almost pleadingly. She grasped his back. He pulled her closer and stared into her topaz eyes. He inhaled her cinnamon and apple scent. She looked so innocent standing there. So . . .

"Angelic . . ." he breathed. She swallowed hard.

"What," she said quietly. He opened his mouth to speak, but her scent got the better of him. Before he knew what he was doing, Draco scooped her up and kissed her hard. She resisted at first, but relaxed into it after a second. She whimpered. He released her lips and stared down into her eyes. She was breathless and flushed. It was all he could do not to disapparate them to his bedroom in an apartment he'd rented here in the city for his time alone. She clung to him for support. He set her upright. She acted as if she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. He touched her hair as it spilled over her shoulders in a caramel river.

"Are you going to tell me your name now?" he asked playfully. She gave him a sexy, crooked grin and shook her head.

"If you really meant what you just implied, then I have no doubt that you'll figure it out," she answered while walking backward.

"Then I'll just call you Angel," he whispered as she disappeared looking back and grinning as she faded into the crowd.

_My Angel_, he thought. He'd just found his redemption. At least he thought he had. Draco was obsessed. He lightly touched his lips and savored the sensitivity from the kiss. She tasted so good. Everything about her was good. Her scent lingered in his senses, on his jacket. He wanted her. He'd find out who she was. He had his ways. Time would tell how soon.

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A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fan fic that I am writing as pennance to my sister for not helping her with her college essay. It was kinda her idea, well, both of our idea, and I figured I'd give her credit. Please read and review! I like knowing what I can do to improve my writing! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger strode down the street in London toward the coffee shop that had her favorite: White Chocolate Cappuccino with whip. Every time she came down this way, she stopped. She tugged at the scarf her mother had given her. It had been her grandmother's before she'd passed away. It was very special to the whole family. The scarf was dark red, gauzy and so satiny one would swear it was silk.

The wind ruffled her caramel colored hair, which she'd decided to wear straight over the summer since it made her look more mature. It chilled her. She'd woken up and put on her cranberry tank with some jeans and flip flops for her trip, but as soon as she'd stepped outside, she'd run right back up and slung on her white jacket and fur topped ugs. It was freezing at the end of summer. That'd been a first for her.

She pulled her toboggan down over her ears and put her hair back over her shoulders where it belonged and turned into the coffee shop. She loved it here. It smelled of new ground coffee beans and sweet flavors. She looked around the room. There were so many people around her. So many muggles. She loved to feel normal again, only ever once in a while, but she loved it all the same.

"Thanks," she told the cashier as she took her coffee.

Turning, she walked out the door, the bells jingling. She turned down the street heading toward the restaurant that her parents had taken her for as long as she remembered. She and Ron had plans to go to the movies right down from it. After that, she'd be going back to the Burrow to stay with his family until school began. It was the usual agenda. She smiled thinking of his smiling face waiting for her, she liked to imagine him that way. The way he used to be.

He could be difficult, god knows, but he loved her. Even if she did torture him with abstinence. She was the best of the Good Girls, morals and all. He was moody these days though. Moody and he was getting ruder every day. She attributed that to his hormones rushing. Ever the pacifist, Hermione just tried to make the best of the worst situations.

Looking up she wondered why it was so dark these days. She wondered why everything seemed unhappy. It was in that one moment that someone knocked into the arm in which she was carrying the coffee. It went flying. She cursed and picked up the remnants of the cup. _There goes the best part of my day_ , she thought.

She didn't realize that, as she was bending over, her scarf was caught in the breeze and pulled itself loose. Throwing away the trash, she headed off in the direction of the theater again. When she rounded the corner, she noticed, in the store window, a book that she'd been looking for, but before she had a chance to go inside, someone crashed into her.

Everything moved as if in slow motion as her assailant turned just right and steadied himself while catching her in an iron grip as if he'd lain her back to kiss her. She was startled. He held her gently but firmly. She looked into his bluish gray eyes. They were endless. His messy white blonde hair held its sexy position throughout the whole ordeal. His lips were pressed firmly together, as if concentrating. She could feel the taught muscles in his arm and on his chest as he held her. She could feel every single independent rock that was his eight pack abdomen on her knee. It was as if time was suspended as this sexy man held her in mid air. She realized then who he was.

Faster than she'd ever moved, Hermione shot out of his arms and straightened her jacket. Draco Malfoy. She couldn't figure out whether to punch him(again) or thank him for keeping her from hitting the concrete.

"I'm sorry-" he started.

"I'd hope so. That was very ru-" Hermione began.

She noticed then what he had in his hand. I was the scarf that was so special to her. Her hand flew to her throat where it should be. It was gone, as if it wasn't obvious already. She narrowed her eyes.

"Where did you get that?" she snarled.

"It- uh – I found it . . ,"he said gingerly, "I was trying to return it. . ."

She snatched it from him. This was the most special thing in the world to her. She'd almost lost it. And _he_ had returned it. _Him_. Of all people, _him_,who she hated so much. _Him_, who had tormented her for years. Why would he do something so nice all of a sudden. Was it a setup? She looked carefully around for his henchmen and prepared to fight if something happened.

"Why?" she asked genuinely curious.

How could someone so evil, so _vile_, do something so thoughtful. Especially for her . . . He hated her just as much as she hated him, of that she was absolutely certain. She was so confused. Had he been possessed? Was he under the Imperius Curse? _No_, she thought, _His eyes were clear . . . and so beautifu-- STOP that Hermione!_

"I'm not sure," he mumbled, "I, uh, I just figured it looked special and you might want it back."

Her mouth bobbed open and shut several times before she actually closed it. He was sick . . . he must be! Had he changed so much? And in such a small amount of time? Surely not ? But then why . . . Her mind reeling in shock, she turned to leave, and, having no more shifted her weight, she turned back. He opened his mouth to say something to her.

"Thank you," she cut him off, frowning as she grasped for words.

He nodded, as did she as she began to walk away again, shaking her head to clear it. This was weird, even for the wizarding world . . . She felt the lightest pressure on her arm, the softest tug pulling her to a stop.

"Wait," he said quietly.

Hermione paused. She followed the line from his hand to his face, slowly, as if taking it in. His beautiful hand looked strong and large against her tiny white jacket sleeve. His black leather jacket fit closely, but still it was just right. The V-neck of his shirt revealed the muscles that she'd felt when he'd held her. His body was beautiful. When she reached his face, she averted her gaze from his eyes. She was breathless and didn't want him to see what she'd been thinking in her eyes.

"Would you . . .lets go get something to eat . . . or some coffee?" he asked, sheepishly.

_Oh . . . I've got to go_, she thought, _NOW_. . . She shifted her weight again and looked in the direction that Ron was waiting for her. She was torn. Undecision flooded her senses. She looked at Draco again. She made eye contact with him for the first time since he'd saved her from falling. Something in those eyes, the light possibly, the askance, something made her want to agree to anything. She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. She'd forgotten Ron in that one moment.

As they walked slowly toward the restaurant that was her parents' favorite. She felt horrible as she watched Draco from the corner of her eye. He moved in a way that made her heart beat faster, in a way that brought a strange warm feeling to her skin. He moved like a feral predator. Fluidly. Gracefully. Like a hunter stalking his prey. It was sexy as hell, and she couldn't help but think so. She got a chill.

It was in that moment that her head cleared and she realized what it was, exactly, that she was doing. Her heart skipped a beat. She tried to hide the panic that had flared up in that one moment. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. If Ron saw . . . She wouldn't think about that. She'd already agreed to go, there was nothing she could say to rebut it. Nothing she _would_ say. She glanced at Draco again. He was walking silently, hands in pockets. He looked confident, not arrogant any longer. He glanced sideways, then, and smiled encouragingly. It was no longer the evil sneer she'd been so accustomed to. He wasn't the same person.

When they got to the restaurant, he held the door open. He placed his hand gently on the small of her back and ushered her to a booth in the back. Sitting across from him was worse than walking beside him. His face had a magnetism that her eyes kept getting caught in. She caught herself staring whenever he looked away from her. She felt nervousness beginning to take hold of her. Hermione grabbed her napkin and began working her fingers around the edge of it, studying it intently. Anything to keep her mind off of how beautiful he was, how beautiful she'd never realized he was.

She felt his eyes on her. Watching her, studying her . . . could he be stalking her, preparing to pounce and kill? She wondered, yet she wasn't afraid. The things that crossed her mind in relation to him being evil, she dismissed immediately. He had made no move of evil intent. When the waitress came, she ordered her favorite, and the only thing she'd ever had here: Tortilla Soup. To her surprise, Draco ordered the same thing.

She opened her mouth to tell him that. What she almost did was ask why he was being so nice to her, so she quickly shut it. Thinking she'd regained control of her vocal chords, she opened her mouth again, frowning a little. She almost asked if he realized exactly who she was, she shut it again. Looking up, she noticed the sexy crooked grin he was giving her. _Oh, Good Lord_, she thought as her heart skipped a beat. No one had made it do that since Ron before he changed. _No, I won't think that_, she thought.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" he said. She gained control for certain because she didn't have to wonder how to bring it up.

"Its funny that you ordered that . . ." she started, "I've been coming here with my parents since I was very small . . . that's all I've ever had here. Its my favorite." He looked a little surprised.

"I've been coming here since I was old enough to sneak away from home. Its my favorite too." She smiled a little at that. _Sneaking away from home, who would've thought he'd steal away from his life_, she thought. She was unprepared for the thread of questions that came up next.

"How old are you?" he asked. She choked on her breath at that. What was he saying?

"Seventeen," she replied.

"Where do you go to school?" he asked. Again, she frowned. He didn't recognize her. He had absolutely no idea who she was or that they hated each other. Go figure. This was all meant for someone else. A total stranger.

"Actually, I go to school at Hogwart's . . . with you . . ."she answered. His jaw dropped.

"So then you know who I am" he said, almost disappointedly. She remembered her hatred then and fire gushed through her veins for a couple of heartbeats.

"I do. And I know that you're probably the worst of the worst in Slytherin House." He cringed at that.

"Please, don't think that . . ," he whispered. She was surprised at that. She was sure that's what he wanted people to think. Maybe she'd been right after all. Maybe he had changed.

"I'm sorry . . . You've always seemed so proud of being bad . . ." He looked up at her.

"I was . . . I'm not so certain anymore . . ." She felt him open up with those words. She also felt the valve shut just as quickly.

"So why've I never seen you at school before?" he asked her. Her jaw dropped again. Could she really look that much different now?

"I'm surprised you haven't," she replied vaguely.

"Fair enough . . ." he said.

The food arrived. She could feel his eyes on her again. He was actually watching her eat. How strange . . . When she took the first bite, she heard him suppressing a small laugh. She set down her spoon and sat straight again, daring him to laugh at her.

"What's so funny, Draco Malfoy?" she asked sharply. He smiled that smile again: the one that made her heart stop. She had to fight the urge to tell him to stop that or he'd kill her today.

"Nothings funny," he said sincerely, "you're beautiful. And when you were _savoring_ that first bite you made a small sound . . . I can't explain what it sounded like." She tucked her hair behind her ear. She felt so funny.

"Sorry," she said quietly, "I'm so used to you being rude . . . or . . . or . . . something . . ."

"Yeah," he replied, "but things are different now." Hermione was completely awestruck.

"Well," she said, breaking the silence, "Why do you sneak away from home then?"

"You'll understand if I say personal reasons," he replied looking away. She pursed her lips. He was going to play difficult.

"Alright then," she said, catching his attention, "I'll talk about me." He smiled at that.

"The floor is open, milady," he said, waving his hand as if showing her to the stage.

"Well," she began, "I was born of non-magic parents. I'm in advanced classes at hogwarts-"

"You probably won't believe me if I say me too," he said, cutting her off, "About the last part anyway. I've had to use a time turner for the past two years to take them all, and an invisibility spell. Dumbledore's orders." She gawked. She'd just been about to argue that she'd never seen him in any of her classes.

"Wow, why's that," she asked.

"Because most of the people in those classes would probably ask to be removed if they found out I was there. I'm not well liked, you see."

"Couldn't have guessed that in eighty-four thousand years," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I just don't know why people would act like that," he said sarcastically, "Its not like my father's a Death Eater or anything." Her eyes got wider and she gasped. He suppressed a laugh at her expression. Everyone knew his father was into the Dark Arts. He never kept it secret.

"But-"

"It was a joke," he said. She raised her eyebrows and looked back at her food.

"That's really not something I'd joke about," she said quietly. He realized he'd offended her.

"I'm sorry, I . . ," he started, "I didn't mean I thought it was a good thing. I'm completely opposed to the Dark Arts now . . . well, mostly. I have found a few useful things there . . ." She looked a little frightened. He reached and took her hand.

"None of them are bad or forbidden," he assured her, "I'd never used anything harmful. Not anymore."

She wanted to believe him. He still had no idea who he was talking to. He had no idea just how opposed she was to the Dark Arts. They changed the subject. They talked for what seemed like hours. In fact it was only two. Long enough to miss the movie. Not long enough with Draco for her. When she realized that, she new she was getting in over her head. Her only hope was that when she saw Ron she'd forget all about this window into Draco's soul. She could only hope that he'd do the same.

By the time they'd finished their meal, they'd both made the other laugh and were both smiling. He helped her up and walked beside her to the door. And still, he never asked for her name. They stepped outside. She hesitated, wanting it to go on a little longer. Wishing that she could stop thinking like that. Turmoil bubbled under her skin.

"Thank you, Draco, for this," she said, "Surprisingly, I enjoyed it."

"Your welcome," he said smiling, "I had fun too." The look in his eyes tore at her heart. A look of longing, of pleading. Was he feeling the same thing she was? He didn't even know who she was, how could he. It was just silly.

"I guess I'll see you at school then," she said, forcing herself to take a step back. He grabbed her hand, which she grasped. He pulled her up closer and locked his gaze with hers. His blue-gray eyes seared her. She felt like someone had set a bolt of electricity loose in her body, like she was on fire. She began to shake. She wondered if he could feel it as close as they were.

"Angelic," he breathed.

"What?" she asked.

Hermione's throat went dry and she swallowed hard. His eyes darkened, taking her breath away, right before he scooped her up and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was unlike any she'd ever had. Rough, passionate, yet soft and tender. It made her want more, and more was bad. She whimpered. But bad tasted so good . . . he released her lips and stared down at her. He looked so perfect. The flame in his eyes set her soul to burning. She wanted him. That fact alone was true. She had to leave . . . _now_.

If only her legs would move. She held onto him for support. He set her upright. She wanted to say _something_. What could you say after something like that? He reached and touched her hair.

"Are you going to tell me your name now?" he asked playfully. She copied his grin.

"If you really meant what you just implied, then I have no doubt that you'll figure it out," she answered while walking backward.

She walked fast away from him. What was she doing? Why did she say that? Why with him? What would Ron say if he knew? What had she done? She prayed that he would forget this . . . that she would forget it. But somehow, she knew she wouldn't. She knew something was starting here that would haunt her forever.

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A/N: First of all, to draco4ever, samantha,jackiieee,msmarvelfreak and Black Wolfgirl2722 thank you so much for the great reviews! My biggest problem and the reason my sister had to kick me in the butt to write this was because I was afraid people wouldn't like my writing, and you guys have proved me wrong and have probably got yourselves some spin offs after this one's finished. To emilyy, it is about Hermione and Draco, I was writing this chapter right after I posted the last one, its just that that chapter was from Draco's point of view and this one is from Hermione's. I'll start mixing pov's in the same chapters from now on, these were just too long to post together, but i wanted the turmoil to be evident.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco pondered the whereabouts of the mystery girl. _Angel_, he'd called her. Not just _any_ angel, _his_ angel. There wasn't a second that had gone by in the past few days that he hadn't thought of her. Her eyes, her hair, her scent . . . he wanted to feel her in his arms again. He wanted to find her. He lay on his bed toying with a feather from the hawk he kept. It came to him when he thought of Zephyr. The hawk was intelligent and cunning as he, himself. She would find his Angel. He opened his window and closed his eyes. His telepathy was a new power he'd just mastered. Zephyr came at his mental call every time. While he waited for her, he pulled out a quill and parchment.

_To My Angel,_

_Every day since I met you, you've been on my _

_mind. Your scent lingers in my senses, your kiss on my_

_lips. I am a man obsessed. I must see you and no matter_

_what it takes I will find you. _

_Draco_

He folded and sealed it with his personal crest: Wings spread on a shield. He stared into space. He imagined her smile, perfect, if a tiny bit on the large side, pearly and straight. Her lips were soft, her hair like satin. She tasted sweet . . . though he couldn't describe it in mere words. He jumped when his father walked in.

Lucius's pointy face was twisted in irritation. Draco smiled evilly. His father was angry; he must know where Draco had been all weekend. What was it about this week that everything was going so wonderfully. Draco slid the letter into his desk drawer.

"Well, Draco," Lucius said calmly, betrayed by his face, which was flushed with anger, "I've been _informed_ that you've been at Goyle's all weekend," he huffed, "However, I spoke to your young mate's father this morning in passing, and it seems that Goyle was at Crabbe's."

Draco sat on his desktop, feet in chair, and propped his elbows on his knees. Assuming a similar pose to the one at the coffee shop (he held that stance often). He pretended to listen intently, savoring the acid in Lucius's voice. If his father had known him at all, he'd have seen the sparkle in Draco's eye as he forced down laugh after laugh and put on a concerned façade.

"See, Draco, I thought you'd changed plans and you were out getting into trouble, as usual," he paced on, "Then, I happened to see Crabbe's father at Gringott's, fancy that, and he said that you three boys were at my estate." He turned with meaning to face his son.

"So, could you explain to me then, _son_, why you three were nowhere to be found?"

Draco battled the urge to snicker. He held his stance and pretended to still be listening. After a second, he pretended to snap out of a trance. Looking around as if awestruck, he gaped at his father.

"Oh, father I'm sorry, I got the impression that you were ranting about something. You'll excuse me if I say I zone out when you do that."

Lucius's color went from pink to crimson. He took two great strides and grabbed his son by the collar with both fists. Draco fought the urge to beat his father back. When his father slammed him down on the desk, he laughed.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU BOY!!!" he shouted. Draco stayed relaxed and lifted his head.

"Well, Crabbe's father said I was here, so I must've been," he responded, putting his hands behind his head.

Lucius jerked him loose and slung him across the room. Draco hit the wall below his window, his head crashing against the sill. He pursed his lips as he used his powers to stand up without physical effort. He hovered the floor a few inches.

"Enough," he said calmly.

His father started toward him again. Draco's eyes flashed as he planted his feet on the floor and caught his father around the throat.

"I said enough."

He tightened his grip as Lucius tried to fight. Lucius grabbed his hand. Draco tightened again. Lucius gasped for breath as he began to turn blue.

" I don't think my whereabouts this weekend are any of your business, do you, _father_," he asked calmly. Lucius clawed at his hand.

"You were in London again weren't you," he rasped, "If I catch you there again, you _will _be out of this house!" Draco relaxed his grip then and let his father fall onto the desktop.

"I'll move now if it'll make you happier," he retorted and lay down on his bed. Lucius regained his composure and turned to face his son.

"I could kill you now and save myself the trouble, but it would hurt your mother too much. You _will_ obey me, boy. If not, I will not hesitate to rid myself of you. The Dark Lord questions your loyalty more every day. He'll do things to you that I could never do. Let that be your reminder every time you think of associating yourself with those muggles." Lucius turned to leave.

"The bad part is, father, I've fallen for what you would call a mudblood," he said with a crooked grin. Lucius whipped around.

"You've done _what_?" he snapped, so low that Draco wasn't sure that he'd heard him.

"I've met a 'mudblood' that I'm pursuing. Though I've come to believe that's a really foul word. There's nothing dirty about their blood at all. In fact, I should say that hers runs truer and more powerful than yours or Tom Riddle's. That should make your Dark Lord proud."

"Use her for what you will, my son, but know this. If you are caught, and you will be, the consequences will not fall only on you. Your consequence will be to watch her be tortured to death. And let me assure you, Draco Malfoy, that fate is much worse, because you'll know it was your fault. You'll have to live with yourself for the rest of your miserable existence knowing that if you'd just left her be, she'd be alive and happy with twelve little brats running around in her yard. You'll wish that it had been you that was tortured to death."

He turned and left the room, slamming the door. Draco swallowed hard. He knew that, and yet, he wasn't sure his fathers words could ring true. She'd be protected within the walls of Hogwarts, surely. He would never want to cause her pain. Zephyr landed on his desk as he lay thinking. He rose and dug the letter out of the drawer and attached it to the hawk. Using his powers, he sent her a mental picture of his Angel.

"Zeph, find her, no matter how long it takes," he whispered, carrying the hawk to the window.

Zephyr took off. He watched her until she was out of sight. He hoped the letter would make it there. He wanted to see her again to make sure she was real. He needed to see her, now more than ever. If only it wasn't so complicated . . .

* * *

Hermione hugged her knees and put her head on them. She was tired . . . so tired. Everyday since she'd missed the rendezvous with Ron at the theater, he'd been stalking around the Burrow as if he knew where she had been. He had tried to interrogate her forcefully that day; she had lost her pacifistic façade and fiercely defended herself, lying of course. Ron hadn't believed it for a moment. He still didn't believe it. Whenever they were alone together, he was sharp and snappy. He expected her to do what he asked every second to make up for it. He was pressuring her, now more than ever, about her abstinence. Hermione would have none of it.

She'd been running around recklessly volunteering to do everything around the house. Mrs. Weasley had noticed the change in her. Hermione was finding things to clean and organize that had already been so for days. She was double washing dishes by hand, rather than using spells. She avoided alone time with Ron every chance she got. She jumped every time someone spoke to her. Molly wondered what could be bothering Hermione so. Yet she kept it to herself. Hermione would tell herself or Ginny whenever she felt it was time. They'd always been close in that way. Ginny's temper sometimes got the better of her, however, and poor Ron had been hexed a few times too many because of their spats. Ever since that had started, Hermione had begun to keep to herself.

The room where she and Ginny slept was small, but dark, and Hermione savored the rare moment of being unobserved. Harry Potter was to arrive soon, so everyone was rushing about making preparations. She'd been fighting off the images that rushed into her head every time she lay down at night.

She saw Draco's face. His eyes . . . the passion in them after he'd kissed her haunted her dreams. She'd awaken many nights and checked that Ginny was still sleeping. Hermione was torn to distraction every second her hands weren't busy. Every time she saw him in her mind, she felt his kiss on her lips. Looking up, she touched them softly. Fire had burned in her heart that day. Her fear was that it wouldn't go out soon and her relationship would suffer more than it already did. She didn't want to feel the things she felt when she thought about him. She wanted to hate him more than anything, but the more that she tried, the less possible it seemed.

Lost in thought, she was startled when Ron burst in the room with a letter. She looked up at him, fighting back tears at the nonchalant way he looked at her. He used to glow when he saw her. She used to feel warm when he was near. These days, it was like a dementor had possessed him. She felt cold. She felt overwhelming sadness and hopelessness. He handed the letter to her. Her heart thumped faster with every inch the letter came closer. She just knew it was from Draco and she'd been found out. _Calm DOWN, Hermione_, she thought, _He doesn't even know who you really are!_

"Letter came for you, love," Ron said, "It from Hogwarts. We've all gotten our lists today, I expect that's what this is." She let out a shaky, yet relieved, breath. She opened it.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_It is our pleasure to inform you that you've been chosen_

_as Head Girl over the Prefects. Included in this letter is your badge_

_and the password to your apartments. Our policy has changed with _

_recent events and the Head Girl and Boy will be housed as if they were _

_professors, so to better protect our first through third year students._

The rest was the proper closing formalities. Hermione was awed. She's hoped to be chosen. That seemed so petty to her now, what with the problems she was having in her personal life. She'd do her duty, though, she promised herself. She looked up at Ron.

"I've been chosen Head Girl, Ronald," she said. He gave her a look as if to say "big surprise".

"Congratulations are in order then," he mumbled.

She pursed her lips, trying to look positive about the experience that was about to ensue. She rose and reached to take his hand. He turned and pulled away. She dropped her hand, balling it into a fist. What had happened to them? If he thought that this was the sort of behavior that would get him laid he was sadly mistaken. She refused to be manipulated. She walked over to the mirror they used. Practicing her best smile, she masked the hurt Ron had caused and the longing Draco had brought about in her. They would not get the best of her. She was the best damn student Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and she was the smartest. She would fight them all the way down. Holding her head high, she exited the room and went downstairs to announce her news.

Everyone was quivering with the excitement the impending school year had brought. Hermione bounded down the stairs with an exhilaration she didn't feel and waved her letter around in the air.

"I've been chosen Head Girl," she squealed.

Everyone was awestruck at the change in her, including Ron. They all gaped in silence; the only sound to be heard was the dishes doing themselves. She stopped at the foot of the stairs. She frowned a little and broke a wry grin.

"What?" she asked with a small laugh.

Molly was the first to break the trend and rushed over to hug and congratulate her. Ginny followed in suit, then Arthur, and the rest. Ron hung back. Hermione decided then to make an effort to be pacifistic again and regain a little of what had brought them together in the first place.

Ron looked a bit surprised as, with everyone resuming what they were doing before the announcement, Hermione bounced over to him and grabbed his arm, commanding, not requesting his presence outside. They walked out into the garden.

She turned him toward her.

"Ronald Weasley, you are the most stubborn wizard I've ever met in my life! I refuse to let you stay mad at me for nothing. You're going to _stop_ brooding and yelling about everything and you're _not_ going to bring up anything about my abstinence _ever_ again!"

His eyebrows shot up in response. She fingered his shaggy auburn locks and touched his freckled cheek. His chestnut eyes were wary, but his lips turned up a little at the corners.

"And if I don't agree," he asked. She grinned deviously.

"Then I'll never stop kissing you," she retorted. He gave her a taunting look.

"Is that a threat, Miss Hermione Granger?" She smiled with a warmth she didn't feel.

"It's a promise," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising onto her toes.

She kissed him. He settled his hands around her waist and hugged her close. He broke free and looked in her eyes. She prayed he'd find some echo of what she used to feel when he kissed her. She hugged him close, squeezing her eyes shut. The one thing she didn't want him to see was what she was really feeling. What she was wishing . . . because what she was wishing was that she was kissing Draco again.

She noticed a white hawk settled on the fence. A chill went through her. She knew without wondering who it belonged to. And how she knew was the mystery, even to her heart . . .

* * *

A/N: You like that don't ya! Lol. To _emilyy_ and _draco4ever_: thank you for your great reviews I really appreciate them and I hope that I explained it the right way! To _Sarah_: the way i saw it in my head was that Draco always thought Hermione, being a "mudblood", was lowers status than he was and the only attention he ever paid her was to insult her. He never really looked at her, especially not as a potential lover, and her "bushy" hair was one of the trademark things that defined her in his eyes. So he wouldn't recognize her, especially not in a different light with a tiny alteration to her appearence, such as straight hair. I know that, even with people I liked alot, alot of times I couldn't have picked them out of a crowd unless I'd seen them a few times before, I just decided that Draco would be the same. To _Team Dramione_: I have always had a thing for that "smooth" Bad Boy that knows he's sexy and he _will _get what he wants no matter what. Like Ashton Kutcher(Pardon the bad comparison) in _The Guardian, _I can't remember if he asks her to dance, buy a drink, or for a date, to be honest, its the way he does it. She turns him down and he somehow twist it and words it just right and she's in the palm of his hand and he gets his way. Watch it, you'll see what I'm talking about(plus its a good movie). To _ginnylovesharry07_: I loved the idea of separate POV's because, at least for their meeting, I wanted to get really detailed from both sides! I'm combining both POV's for at least this Chptr, its going to be alot longer than I planned cause little quirks and twists keep slipping their way into it lol. I can't help it! Don't hate me! I'll update soon, guys, my sister says that I'm supposed to update every single day. . . If I hit a writer's block I'll be asking for suggestions, and I plan on possibly coming up with a Soundtrack(in order of occurences) for ya'll to check out to get a little more "movie-like?" Does that make sense?


	4. Chapter 4

The whisper of wings almost made Draco fall backward out of his chair as he rushed to crane around in view of the producer of the sound. _Damn_, he thought. It wasn't Zephyr. Instead, it was a Hogwarts Owl with his list. Had he not been looking for excuses to distract him from his tortuous waiting, he would've tossed it on the desk and forgotten about it.

He opened it as the owl flew away. The scrawling emerald green writing was repetitively the same as every other year he'd been there. The message, however, was a little different. _Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah_, he read silently, _Oh! I've been chosen Head Boy . . . wonder how in the hell that came about_. He reread it several times to be sure that was what the letter was actually saying. He noticed the change in policy, perhaps surprised that his wish for solitude would be a reality after all. Everything was going his way these days. He couldn't help wonder how long it would be before it came crashing down.

His mother would be wanting to know about the appointment to an honored position. He wasn't sure if anyone in his family had ever been chosen a Head. He _did_, however, know that his father had not. Draco smirked. He had another one-up on his father. Everything about Draco overshadowed Lucius's every accomplishment at his age. Perhaps that's why Lucius was so hateful to him. Since that first year, when Draco'd brought home perfect marks and exhibited powers that an eleven year old shouldn't be able to control, Lucius had pushed Draco towards the Dark Arts, had taunted and teased and jerked him around by his hair, ear, or any other appendices he could catch hold of. Two days ago, Draco had stopped that trend in the tracks where it had begun. His father had avoided him since.

He settled down in his chair, yet again, and waited. It seemed to be all that his day had consisted of for the two that had passed. He barely remembered the silent dinners with his parents. His mother always rambled words to him that were unimportant next to the letter he hoped to receive.

There was a light tap on his door. He knew at once that his mother had come into his tower to visit. She entered silently as she could, her heels tapping lightly across the tile floors. Draco looked up affectionately. Narcissa had always been loving toward her son, behind his father's back, of course. As dark as her husband's intentions and as black as her heart could be most of the time, whenever she looked at her son, she softened and light flickered.

"Draco," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders, "You haven't been out of this room in days, my love." He nodded, remaining silent.

"Why don't you tell me the story behind this silent treatment." He looked at her as she sat on the edge of his desk, a concerned look creased her features.

"You'll be angry," he said vaguely, "Just like _him_." She shook her head. He went on.

"I know that you know where I was this weekend, Mother. And while I was there, I met the most beautiful girl . . . woman . . . She was extraordinary. Everything about her made me want to be near her. I can't explain it. Its like something inside jerks every time I think about her." His mother smiled warmly, something that only Draco ever saw.

"My son, I believe you're infatuated. Dare I say in love?" He jerked his gaze at his mother.

"Love? We've only met once. How can you say that, Mother? I'm afraid you've fallen and hit your head or something. I _do NOT_ fall in love." Narcissa suppressed a laugh.

"Tell me, Draco, who is she?" He looked at her sheepishly.

"I, uh, I didn't get her name . . ." A laugh escaped Narcissa's grasp as she looked at the look on his face.

"Well, what do you know about her, dear," she pressed.

"She's a student at Hogwarts, she's the most beautiful amazing girl I've ever met, she's born of non-magic parents, and I'll probably never see her again." He hoped his mother hadn't caught that next to last part, but by the look on her face, he knew she had.

"I'm sorry Draco," she started slowly, "I thought I heard you say she was a mudblood."

"That's because I did, Mother."

Narcissa tried to calm the anger that had blown up inside her. Prejudice was something that she'd been taught since she was in the womb. A _mudblood_! Her son was infatuated with vile disgusting lower class filth. Her eyes turned hard as she looked at Draco.

"My advice to you, my son, would be to forget she ever existed. Your father has us so deep into this war that you'll be found out, whether you believe it or not. For _her_ sake, Draco, leave her be."

She thought she sounded convincing. She knew Draco well enough to know that if she told him her real reasoning, he'd begin to hate and pull from her like he did his father these days. In truth, she almost feared her son. She could feel the raw power that radiated from him when he was angry. His presence rivaled that of the Dark Lord's.

It was a strange thing to be afraid of the child you had raised. Stranger, still, that his powers would most likely be used against them in the end. She had a feeling that Draco took from her a wont to be on the side of good. She'd suppressed hers long ago, but she wasn't sure her son would. Draco was something above the rest of them.

She rose from the desk and walked calmly toward the door. She turned back to glance at her son again. Draco was lost in thought, so handsome he was when he was like that. But what pained Narcissa was the hurt she knew she'd just caused. It was written there somewhere in the sharp planes of his face. The tendons in his hands were tense. She tried to think it was for his own good . . . for the good of the family. If only she could be certain.

* * *

Hermione shooed the hawk for what seemed like the millionth time in that hour. The wretched thing would not leave. Ron was beginning to grow suspicious. Hermione feared what the letter contained. She had decided not to open it. The pesky animal had all but given away the fact that she was hiding something. Every room she went into, the hawk had found the window and perched right outside. She realized that whoever wrote the letter expected a response in any case. She was going to have to read the letter to make it go away. She'd have to do it soon, or the façade she was upholding to keep things the way she thought they should be would be destroyed.

The hardest part of that was finding the time to open it and write a response while she was alone. She was never alone these days. Her little reuniting with Ron had resulted in a hip attachment, apparently. However, she couldn't blame anyone but herself. She wouldn't blame anyone but herself. Why, oh, why couldn't she just wash this all away. She stared at the ceiling and wondered this. _Bath_, she thought. It was the only time she was truly and uninterruptedly alone. She set the potatoes to peeling and chopping themselves and headed to her and Ginny's room.

She retrieved the letter and stuffed it into her shirt where it would be safe. Unwittingly, she'd placed it right over her heart. Hermione rushed back downstairs, wondering if she'd been missed. As it turned out, she hadn't. Molly smiled warmly at her; reluctantly she returned the smile. It was hard, now, to smile and keep up a carefree façade when she was betraying everything every person in this house believed in. Everything she believed in.

"Mrs. Weasley," she asked, "Can you handle the rest? I am still recovering from the cleaning spree and my muscles ache something terrible. I want to soak in a tub of warm water for a while."

Molly just nodded and continued with the meat and carrots for the stew she was making. It was Harry's favorite. He'd be arriving soon. Hermione wondered if Harry would know the things going through her head. She turned on her heel at that thought.

Harry had always known her better than anyone. They had a true bond; they were unofficial family. She wasn't sure why that made him different from Ron. She wished that she and Ron could have a bond so strong. Maybe she could tell Harry everything. _No_, she thought, _Dra – Malfoy – is one of his worst enemies_. She added another to her list of betrayals.

Retrieving the necessaries from her room, she locked herself in the bathroom and started the water. She set the letter on the counter, in reach, and settled herself down into the cleansing waters. The now familiar peck peck of the hawk sounded throughout the bathroom. She relaxed into the bubbles and stared at the letter. Arguing with herself for over what seemed like an eternity, she gingerly reached and picked it up. Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione reluctantly broke the seal.

It was what she'd feared. _He _was trying to make contact with her. She refused to use his name, fearing that it would curse her all the more. She read and reread the letter several times. She had to respond. The bird would leave then. She was alone. It was the perfect time. _Angel_, she thought, as it occurred to her that he hadn't really figured out who she was. She wanted so badly to find out why he was so obsessed. Maybe she could end this.

Taking the paper she'd hidden in her towel, she began to write, not really knowing the words she'd put down.

_Draco,_

_I dream of you at night. I feel as if something has been_

_torn from inside me since the day we spent together. I don't un-_

_derstand it at all. I know a place where we can't be seen. . ._

The closing of the letter included directions to her favorite place in the world. By the river, under the oaks, it was peaceful and private. No one that she knew of had any idea where it was. She'd, herself, only stumbled onto it when she was lost on a hiking trip she and Ron had taken. He'd of course let he fall asleep and decided to walk away to find some food. She'd decided never to forgive him that day. Never, that is, until she found her secret place. They wouldn't be found. "Love, your Angel", she'd ended it. She wasn't ready to reveal herself to the certain hatred she was sure she'd have to endure the rest of her life by his hand. She wanted to take what little time she had left with him to feel out what was under the surface. To know the man she'd met that day in London. There had to be something to him if he'd sent his pet on a hopeless mission to deliver a letter.

She attached the letter to the hawk outside the bathroom window. When she let it free, making sure no one was in view of course, she watched it until it disappeared. She got an odd electric feeling in her stomach. Something was starting. She couldn't tell if it was good or bad. She didn't care. She wanted to feel the fire that had rushed through her veins that fateful day he'd kissed her. The fire that hadn't been present since he'd carved the void in her soul when she'd left him there on that street. And she decided in that place and in that moment that she would.

* * *

Draco had just finished showering when he realized that Zephyr had returned. Hanging his white towel low on his hips, he approached her. There was a letter on his desk where she'd dropped it. He picked it up and turned it over and over. He was almost afraid to read it. What if it wasn't from her? Or worse, what if she rejected him? He slowly let out a breath as he opened it.

He was shocked at the response. He saw the place in his mind's eye even as he read the directions. It was perfect. He folded the letter and smiled. Maybe he would have his way after all.

* * *

A/N: Oh, this is a short chapter, I know. To _black wolfgirl2722_: Thanks! I wanted him to have that dangerous thing going on, cause he's not really a "good" guy, he's kind of neutral, and if i go any further I ruin the ending! I hope I captured Ron to a T. . . To _xcheerios_: If I just made it easy then it wouldn't be dramatic or cliffhanging anymore lol! About the powerful thing: there are four things I LOVE about my leading men(in reading and writing): Extreme power, a total badass, that dangerous edge, and the fact that he knows it(which I'm getting to slowly but surely). . . To _everyone_: Thank you for the great reviews! The next chapter is going to be one of my favorites, just because of what goes on. . . Duh Duh Duh. . . cliff hanger. . . yet again . . .


	5. Chapter 5

The wind whispered through the branches as she walked, arms hugging her ribs, toward the place they intended to meet. Whether she was fighting off the chill or holding the two sides of herself together, she didn't know. The reasonable side told her to turn around and go back to the burrow this instant. The reckless side, the side she'd felt only a few times in her life, said keep walking. She had to know what would happen.

She looked around the dimly lit forest and forced her breathing under control. She knew it was dangerous. She didn't care. When she reached the spot where she had meant for them to meet, she looked around. If he didn't come, she would take that as a sign. Sitting at the base of the ancient oak tree, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. She listened.

* * *

Draco felt nerves as he readied himself to see her. What if she wasn't what he remembered? That couldn't be so. With the psychic powers he had developed, photographic memory was unmistakable. He pulled on his white button down shirt and dark blue jeans and stared at himself in the mirror. For a moment, he wondered what he had become. So much power . . . so much strength. It was all relatively new. He'd learned to control them without the help of anyone else. Perhaps that is why the change in his very being had occurred.

He turned to face the window, and closed his eyes. He envisioned the place where she'd wanted to see him. She was already there. Leaned against the trunk of a tree, knees bent to one side, sleeping. Her hair was different today. It swooped into large soft curls, curls like he had seen on a Taylor Swift poster in London, whoever that was. She looked like a porcelain doll. She looked fragile. He'd have to remind himself to be gentle with her in every way. Smiling for the sheer joy of knowing she'd come, he reached out with his conscious mind and grasped the place where she was. He evaporated into a black mist.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes as she felt the air sizzle with power. She sat upright and reached for the wand she carried in her jacket, though she was certain whoever held that power could beat her easily, she wanted to be safe. She looked straight ahead as Draco materialized in front of her, black mist like an aura around him for such a short moment she was sure she imagined it. _My god he's beautiful_, she thought without scolding herself for the first time.

"Hello, Angel," he said with a slight smile. She smiled in spite of her turmoil. Angel . . . she liked that.

"Hello, Draco," she replied.

He reached for her hand and helped her up with little to no effort. His eyes never left hers. She felt like the prey of a great cobra: entranced . . . paralyzed. His grip lingered for a moment on her hand and then released it. He didn't want to frighten her and controlling himself was difficult, because all he wanted to do was scoop her up and kiss her until she saw stars. She didn't miss the raw hunger in his eyes. He was feral. He motioned for her to walk with him. He walked like a predator; his movements were feline. She felt frightened; she felt exhilarated. There was something dangerous about Draco Malfoy that she'd obviously overlooked before. It was wonderful.

He didn't miss the looks she kept unwittingly giving him. He kept his hands in his pockets to keep from snatching her up. They walked silently for a while.

"So, Draco," she said quietly, "You've got me here, what are you going to do with me now?" She regretted the question even as it slipped out. She could see in his eyes exactly what he wanted to do with her now. She gulped.

"You shouldn't say things like that, Angel," he said, "You may get in over your head."

_But that's exactly what I want_, she thought. She balked from the thought, what he didn't know was she was already in over her head. Way in . . .

"Why can you never see the sun anymore," she diverted, looking skyward. He smiled deviously.

"I can see the sun. All you have to do is break the cloud cover." _Right_, she thought, _flying_.

"I hate flying," she informed him. His grin widened mischievously.

"Then you haven't flown the _right_ way," he said turning toward the woods. He reached behind him and drew her in front of him. Hemione's breathing became shallow.

"Close your eyes," he whispered. She had no choice but to obey. He was mystical, _and_ he covered her eyes. Not to mention that his breath on her neck was intoxicating.

Draco reached out with his mind to summon him. He could feel her heart beating furiously as he kept his hands over her eyes. He smirked. She was either exhilarated or afraid. He felt the same. What if his mother was right? What if he was leading her down a path that would lead to her death. He shook his head, clearing that thread from his mind. He wouldn't _let_ her die, that's all.

Hermione heard it before it was near enough to touch her. The sound of either an animal – a huge animal that sounded very dangerous – or a group of people. She began to feel fear for the first time since she'd known him. Draco had the potential to be dangerous. It was something she'd never considered. He had a dark place in his soul, even if he didn't take himself there often. She thought back to the way he'd appeared before her without the loud _crack!_ that was associated with disaparation. Maybe he had more power than they had ever given him credit for. She shivered.

Draco felt it. She was afraid. He dropped his hands from her eyes as the animal pranced up throwing his head. Hermione's hand began to shake. She didn't want to know if she was about to die. She feared he'd betrayed her. Draco took her hand in his.

"Open your eyes," he commanded. She lingered for a moment before she slowly opened her eyes.

"Oh!" she squealed.

Jumping and losing her footing, she began to fall toward the ground. Draco reached out and effortlessly caught her. She found herself lost in his eyes again, her hair spilling over his arm, his body pressed against hers. Déjà vu consumed her. This was exactly how they met. His expression was different though. That time, he'd been concentrating, on what she had no idea. This time, he seemed amused.

Draco laughed inwardly at the way he was holding her . . . _again_. She looked just as beautiful, just as innocent. In her eyes, though, fear flickered. Only slightly and for a moment, but it had. He'd seen it. He was saddened a little. He reached down and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll never hurt you," he whispered against her skin.

Pressing her forehead against his cheek, he lifted both of them upright. She regained her composure as she surveyed the animal before her. She'd never seen such a thing; she'd only heard about them in stories.

Before her, prancing and throwing its head, pawing at the ground, was a winged horse. She grasped Draco's sleeve. The horse's coat gleamed, seemingly glowing in that dull light. The wings were folded except when he was prancing around. It's beauty almost brought tears to her eyes. Draco was satisfied with this reaction. He placed his hand in the small of her back and urged her forward gently. Hermione balked.

She looked at him fearfully. He smiled slightly. He held his hands out, a little further than shoulder distance and approached the great horse. The Pegasus relaxed and let Draco take his muzzle in his hands. Draco looked up at hermione and smiled. She was mystified. She found herself walking toward the pair. She was in arm's reach before she knew it. She held out her hand. Draco grabbed it and led her closer. She was in the exact spot he had been in. He lifted her outside arm to stroke the animal's nose.

"His name is Cloudrunner," he informed her.

"How do you know that?" she retorted.

"If I told you, you'd be frightened again," he said sincerely, "and I don't want you to be afraid of me."

She concentrated on the horse. She felt the fight flare up inside her again. Draco wrapped one arm around her waist and grabbed the back of her inside leg. Before she knew what he'd done, Draco had lifted Hermione onto the shoulders of the winged horse where she was frozen in fear. She couldn't help but remember a ride she'd been on four years ago that was very similar. Draco mounted behind her. Reaching around her, he wrapped his fingers in the mane of their mount and held her tightly with the other. Hermione felt the power quivering under his touch. It gave her a chill.

The horse reared and started out in a gallop. Hermione was terrified. Draco held her fast, but gently. She clutched the mane like it was made of satin and would slip through her fingers.

"Ready?" Draco asked breathlessly.

She wanted to shake her head, but she realized that it was more a warning than a question. She could see the great wings stretch out wide in the corner of her vision. _This is it_, she thought, _the day I die!_ She shivered. The wings began to flap and then slowed. Hermione could no longer feel the pounding of the hooves on the ground. She could hear the wings and the wind. It occurred to her that she had her eyes closed ever since she saw the wings extend.

She cautiously opened her eyes. The wind sent her hair flying back over her shoulders, Draco's cheek was pressed against her ear. She felt strangely warm. Hermione braved a look down, realizing that they were much higher than she'd been in a very long time. She gasped. Draco hugged her closer, making her feel safe. She relaxed immediately. The British landscape was breathtaking from the air, the clouds were wet but beautiful. Hermione realized after just a few minutes that she was having the time of her life. She trusted Draco completely for that moment and held her arms out like wings. Her smile was beginning to make her cheeks hurt. This was wonderful.

They flew for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a half. Draco decided to show her the one thing he'd promised: the sun. He used his powers to solidify a cloud as they broke the cloud cover. Cloudrunner landed smoothly. Hermione's eyes became wide. Draco hopped down. He amazed even himself sometimes with the things he could do. He felt as if he was walking on cotton candy. He turned and offered his hand to her. Hermione took it and braced herself to fall to her death.

When she was safe in his arms, she stomped and bounced a little to test out the solidity. This made no sense at all. Clouds were _not_ solid! Hadn't they flown through enough of them that very evening? Cloudrunner laid down where he had landed. Hermione released Draco and walked toward the edge of the cloud. She sat and let her feet dangle through the whisps that weren't attached to her cloud.

She looked out over the sky. She was taken aback at the sight she saw. The sun cast colors over the clouds, butters and peaches. Corals and yellows. The suns rays set fire to everything, above the polluted air of the atmosphere, above the filthy power struggles. It was like heaven on earth. She couldn't even begin to fully describe its luster. She looked at Draco. He was staring out over the skyscape too. He looked powerful here, more than anywhere else. The fires of the sunlight gleamed in his eyes. The winds blew his spiked hair around. There was a glowing aura around him that no one would ever match. He was absolutely frightening. Hermione looked away. Not frightening . . . she wouldn't let herself think that here, where they were neither on earth or in the heavens.

"Its like heaven," she whispered. Draco's trance was broken then. He looked at her lovingly.

"Then you belong here, Angel," he replied quietly. Hermione turned back to him. He reached for her hand. She took it as he helped her up. He held her close. She rested her head on his chest. They stayed that way for a while, watching the sun set, the colors deepen. She touched his face and turned it down to face her. She looked into his eyes, searching for the answers to her questions.

"Draco, what draws you to me so?" she asked. He contemplated this question.

"I think its your eyes, Angel. I think that when I look into them, I see everything I want to be. You don't look at me like everyone else. You make me feel like I can be what I want, like its not impossible . . . I can be what I want, who I am, with you." She hugged him close.

"I always thought you were horrible and sniveling. I thought that you were spoiled and sheltered. I never knew you could be this way. I thought you were evil."

"I _am_ evil, Angel," he whispered. His focus was somewhere in space, somewhere behind her.

"I don't believe you," she said stubbornly. This brought his attention back to her.

"Then you're stupid," he said smiling, "There are things about me you haven't even begun to know." Hermione shivered.

"I trust you, Draco," she whispered.

"Angel, I've never had anyone I can trust. Never. Not once. I feel like I want to trust you, Angel, that's a rare thing, indeed. But I can't let myself. Not yet." Hermione buried her head in Draco's shoulder.

"Doesn't this make you want to stay up here forever," she asked staring back at the sky. The sun had finally fallen, the moon was rising and it was twilight. The moonlight sparkled over the sea of clouds replacing the fire with water.

"No," he answered harshly, "It makes me want to never let you go. I know I have to let you go back. I don't want to . . ." He faded off.

He placed his forefinger under her chin and lifted it to kiss her. Hermione let him. She felt the guilt began to well up inside her. She pulled back and walked a few steps backward. Draco looked confused. She approached the winged horse and tried several times to mount him by herself unsuccessfully. Draco was there instantly helping her onto the shoulders. She remained silent all the way back to the place they had met that day. She wanted to say something to him but couldn't find the words. After they were safely on the ground, she watched as he faded into mist and was gone. She apparated down the lane from the Burrow and began the walk back to the drama that was certain to come about.

She was feeling things she never thought possible. Things she'd never felt for Ron. What would happen when they got to school? Would everything go back to normal after he figured out who she was? Or would that make it all the more worth while. At least she wouldn't technically be in the same house as Ron. She'd have her own quarters and her own common rooms with the Head Boy. That was the only thing she looked forward to this year.

* * *

A/N: Thank ya'll for the awesome reviews! To _black wolfgirl 2722_: I know what you mean. To tell you the truth, I didn't even plan that chapter to be like that it took on a mind of its own as I was writing it.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco stood at his window in his white linen pants and robe. The wind blew the clothing against him. He was lost in his own thoughts. For once, he wasn't thinking about Angel, as he'd named her. When he'd told her he was dangerous, he'd meant it. His father had sent several of the younger members of the Death Eaters to speak with him about joining. He was holding off. He didn't want to be initiated into Voldemort's minions. Not with the power he'd recently discovered being as strong as it was. He frightened himself. Angel had said she trusted him. Hell, he didn't even trust himself.

* * *

Hermione didn't have to explain at all when she got back to the Burrow. She'd picked some flowers and stained her jeans with grass and dirt and stuck weeds in her hair. When she got home, everyone was laughing and joking. They even added her attire to their list of merriment. Harry Potter had finally arrived. Hermione's spirits lifted now. She'd run and hugged Harry as soon as she'd seen him.

"Hello, Hermione!" he'd said, "What the devil happened to you?" Ron came and put his arm around her. It was all she could do not to shrug away.

"She probably tripped on those rocks on our old hiking trail," he told Harry.

Harry raised a dark eyebrow, but left matters alone. He'd never known Hermione Granger to be very clumsy. Something was up.

"So, Harry," she diverted, "are you all packed and with all your books and such?" He looked at her drolly.

"Sorry," she sputtered, "I should've known that."

Harry watched Hermione for a few hours, interacting with the Weasleys. Something was definitely different in her. He knew he was the only one that could tell. After dinner, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys decided on an impromptu game of Quidditch, which Harry declined. He took this opportunity to snatch Hermione aside.

"Hermione Granger, what's going on with you? And don't you lie to me," he said. She bit her lip trying to think of something.

"Hermione, I'm serious." She wanted to tell him everything, but she was afraid.

"Harry . . . I . . . I can't tell you," she stuttered, staring at the ground. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hermione, I won't tell anyone. I can tell something is up." She decided that they were sure to find out when school started anyway.

"Harry, I kissed someone," she started, gauging his reaction, "And I've received a letter from him and that's where I was today. Please don't tell Ron. I'm just trying to figure this out."

"Don't tell me what?" Ron's voice said as he snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Harry didn't look at Hermione's pleading gaze as he looked his friend in the eye.

"What she's getting you for Christmas, mate. Its sounds bloody wicked to me," he lied coolly. Harry looked pointedly at Hermione to keep up the lie.

"Uh . . . Thanks a lot Harry, now he'll be badgering me for days to tell him what it is," she retorted, mouthing him a silent thank you.

Harry nodded. Later, she mouthed. He nodded again. What a friend he was. Satisfied, Ron went back to the Quidditch game. Harry and Hermione walked into the magically lit garden to pretend to watch the game.

"Harry, I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered. He smiled lopsidedly. His didn't do Draco's justice.

"I know how it is, Hermione. Ron's a pompous ass. He's a great friend, don't get me wrong, but I see the way he treats you sometimes. He deserves to have you cheat on him." Hermione flinched at the word. Cheating . . . she supposed that's what you _would_ call it. She'd never thought of it as that. That would explain her guilty feelings . . .

"You know, if you knew who I was talking about, you wouldn't be so supportive," she retorted.

Harry looked at her questioningly. She shook her head. _Ooh_ no, she was not going there. She needed Harry in her corner for now. She was lost being with only the Weasleys and no one to confide in. Hermione was quite sure that Harry would turn his back on her when he found out. Hogwarts was waiting in the near future. Two days . . . everything would be revealed and she would be cast out by one or both the people who were warring over her heart every moment of the day. _No_, she thought, _Not over my heart. Draco has that in a nutshell. Ron just has my loyalty._

Of three things, Hermione Granger was certain:

Draco was her enemy (though he didn't know it)

He was terrifyingly powerful and dangerous, and probably wanted her dead . . .

And

She was completely and irrevocably falling in love with him.

* * *

Draco stood on the magical platform between platforms nine and ten and zoned out. He was wondering about Angel. Would he see her today? Possibly . . . he wouldn't count on it . . . There were too many people here.

* * *

Hermione scanned the crowd unconsciously looking for the one who occupied her mind at all hours of the day. She didn't see him. Ron's arm closed protectively around her arm as Pansy Parkinson muttered something about a "mudblood". If only that pug face knew that the guy she'd been after for years was following Hermione around secretly and falling in love with her. She laughed to herself. Ron frowned a little as she did so. She assumed he thought she was losing her mind after all.

Harry led them to an empty compartment on the train. Ginny sat with them. Hermione remained quiet and nervous as she wondered how close it would come today to being over with Draco and Ron both. She heard Ron's voice faintly as he tapped her shoulder.

"Hermione, are you bloody deaf?" he asked. She looked at him stupidly.

"Huh?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, I asked if you'd go get us some sweets, we missed the trolly somehow."

Hermione looked at Harry who offered her some money. She nodded and rose. She walked into the walk that ran between compartments. The trolly was nowhere to be seen. She shook her head and walked the way the trolly usually traveled. Toward the back of the train. She had zoned out again and wasn't paying attention when someone crashed into her. She began to fall toward the floor, but the figure caught her the same as Draco had the first day they me. Hermione focused on his face, which kicked up into a grin that melted her knees.

"Hello Angel," Draco said, "We've gotta stop meeting like this." She stuttered, grasping for words to use. She bolted away from him a few steps.

"Draco . . . I . . . I can't see you now . . . Later, I'll . . . I'll figure out something," she said as she turned on her heel and ran back to her compartment. Everyone looked concerned at her flushed face. Ron turned protective.

"What happened to you? And where's the sweets?" he demanded. Hermione handed Harry back the money.

"I . . . uh . . . I . . . ran into Draco Malfoy," she said honestly. Ron and Harry fumed and ranted the whole way to Hogwarts. _Oh yeah_, she thought, _this is going to be much worse than I originally thought_.

* * *

Draco was so confused. She had run from him. Even the first time they met she hadn't reacted like that. . . something was up. . . He didn't know what, but something was . . . As much as she wanted him every time they were together, she ran away. . . He jumped in the carriage with some younger Ravenclaws as he ignored the calls of the other Slytherins, the calls of the newest Death Eaters.

He wanted nothing more than to get the impending meeting with Albus Dumbledore over with. He respected the man now, just to spite his father and it was awkward between them. Dumbledore could see into his soul and that bothered him. What would happen if he saw the recently developed powers? Draco was sure to be ejected from the school. Power like his wasn't exactly common.

Another thought crossed his mind. Dumbledore had obviously chosen him as Head Boy as a sign of good faith, but who would be the Head Girl. Draco had his ideas, and they weren't good ones. The number one obvious choice was that irritating bushy headed Granger girl. He hoped to god that it wasn't. How could he share common rooms with Hermione Granger? It was too much to bear to think about. He walked into the office after riding the stone escalator to the door. The person he saw there surprised him.

* * *

Hermione waited for the Head Boy to get there. Hopefully he wouldn't be dimwitted and annoying or hate her heritage, like some were sure to do. The door opened to the office behind her. She turned and paled at the sight she saw. Surely not . . .

* * *

Draco smiled whole heartedly as he briskly walked to her and pulled her close. He kissed her and then stepped back to examine her. Her hair was in the same curls again, he supposed it was easier that way. She looked at him as if something was completely wrong.

"_You're_ Head Boy?!" she exclaimed. He jumped back a little at her apparent hysterics.

"Yeah, and _you're_ Head Girl. This makes things easier on us, don't you think," he asked cheerfully.

Hermione turned and collapsed into the chair. This was not okay. He _could _NOT be Head Boy. But she supposed he was right about that last part. So much for forgetting about him or learning to deal with it. The door opened again. Draco faced the new person respectfully. Dumbledore smiled at them both.

"Mr. Malfoy," he addressed Draco, "Miss Granger . . ."

The rest she didn't hear. Hermione looked sideways at Draco who's face was turning pink with surprise. He didn't look at her. She'd been found out. Dumbledore rattled off rules and duties, which they both noted mentally and dismissed them. They didn't budge for a moment so he repeated his dismissal. Hermione inclined her head and rushed out of the room. Draco followed heatedly. She was halfway down the escalator as he ran after her.

"Angel," he shouted. She didn't respond.

"Hermione," he tried. She stopped. Turning around she approached him.

"I didn't want you to find out like that," she said, leaving him again.

He stared after her. He was bewildered as he went to their common rooms during the first Great Feast. Why wouldn't she have told him the truth. Could he just be bewitched? How could he feel that way about Hermione Granger? Of all people, why her? But he did . . . that's all that mattered. It would work out. . . It had to . . . the feelings he felt were real . . . He'd fallen for his enemy. . . and there was no other way of looking at it.

* * *

A/N: Duh Duh Duh! Not quite the reaction I figured he'd give her, but he's in shock . . . The best i yet to come with that. . . or should I say the worst. Thanks for the reviews, I wanted them to have a moment of peace together where they realized how much they were beginning to mean to each other. . . I think this chapter isn't as good as the rest, but I'm trying. . . Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Draco rubbed his hair dry with the fluffy white towel and then the rest of his body in turn. He wrapped the towel around his hips and walked to his bedroom. The four poster bed took up a quarter of the room by itself. His clothes were lain on the bedding. He used his powers to put them on his body. He looked at himself in the mirror. He felt so young, yet so very old at the same time. He turned away.

His thoughts escaped his control and tore back to Hermione Granger. How could he never have seen her this way? How could he never have seen her beauty or intelligence before? It was mind blowing that he could have been so self absorbed. He'd come to terms with the fact that he was destined to hate the one person he loved more than anything in the world over the course of his shower. There was much they had to discuss when she returned from the feast . . . but they had the privacy of their own commons to do so. He was relieved at the advantage.

* * *

Hermione sat quietly between Ron and Harry, hands wringing in her lap, waiting for the opening speech the headmaster gave every year. Dumbledore was making his way to the podium slowly, as always, though this year seemed much more sluggish than the rest.

She flinched when Harry touched her arm by accident reaching for something, as did she when Ron's leg accidentally brushed her skirt; neither action had escaped either boy's attention. Harry knew it had something to do with her mystery fellow. Ron had no idea why she would be acting this way. His suspicions were rising to the surface little by little.

Her brow began to ache from being furrowed. The announcement would come soon. The announcement she'd been dreading . . . the announcement of Head Boy and Girl in front of the whole school. She was sure that with the chemistry as it was between Draco and herself that everyone would see right through her charade. She was, for the first time in her life, thoroughly and disturbingly frightened.

It was in the moment that Dumbledore's eyes lingered on hers that she felt a peace come over her. He wasn't going to announce it. . . he was going to leave it alone. Hermione's relief vanished as she realized that the Headmaster must know something. She was doomed anyway she looked at the situation.

Her mind began to wander as the sorting ritual began. She remembered every moment she'd ever been with Draco. Every stolen second they'd shared had been nothing less than magical. Would she trade it for the life she had before?

_Never_ . . . she thought. It was a dangerous affair with a sworn enemy. It was exciting in ways her life had never been. She craved more and more of the fear of getting caught, of the adrenaline that shot through her veins whenever Draco's lips came close to her, of that strange electricity that energized her whole body whenever he merely brushed her skin. That was her addiction . . . not power . . . not knowledge . . . raw passion and magnetism. He drew her in like a silent predator –

"HERMIONE?!" Ron shouted.

She started and knocked over her pumpkin juice into Harry's lap. Harry in turn screeched, a disturbing sound in its own right, and jumped up, knocking Seamus into his pudding. Seamus then jumped up knocking his chair over into a Hufflepuff fifth year and the pudding into Ginny's lap across from him. The chain kept on until everyone at the Gryffindor table was covered in food or drink, along with most of the Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaws. Everyone was silent for a moment.

All hell broke loose. Hermione screamed as hexes and jinxes and food and levitated objects and different charms and spells and all manner of chaos erupted. She ducked under the table. The whole of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was at war. Each house was fighting within itself, and in turn the three other houses as well. The Prefects and Professors began to unite over the students. Hermione breathed as if she was about to dive under water. She jumped out about the time someone threw a particularly fluffy and jelly filled dessert her general direction.

_SPLAT!!_ Her vision was gone, her lips tasted oddly like raspberry. Her hair was a mess. She slowly raked the dessert off her enraged expression and whipped her wand around in a circle, immobilizing everyone in its path. This put a good dent in the damage, but she whirled around and climbed on the table. Immobilizing another circle, Ron and Harry included. The teachers began to petrify students as well until everyone noticed what was going on and stopped in their tracks. _What a year this is going to be_, she thought.

* * *

Hermione watched the last of the Gryffindors climb through the portrait hole and wiped her face for the umpteenth time and sighed heavily. Ron had remained only to walk her to her quarters like a good gravelling boyfriend should. Honestly, Hermione wished he would go to bed with the rest of them. He had been the whole cause of the war in the Great Hall, and he only they knew it. He was at her mercy.

When they reached the portrait to her common room, she tried to send him away. He, of course, wouldn't go. She let him in. He stayed in the commons so that she could change quickly and rinse her hair out.

She took her time. She wished vigorously that she could just dump him without hurting his feelings and be done with this whole façade, but he had done nothing wrong. She couldn't sacrifice a perfectly fine relationship without reason, or she wouldn't.

She made her way back to the chair beside the fire and unwillingly curled up in Ron's lap, pretending it was Draco's. He stroked her hair.

"Hermione, you're exhausted," he whispered. She nodded. He'd ruined her fantasy in that moment. His strange "peasant's" accent was no match for Draco's crisp sophisticated aristocratic dialogue.

"Why are you so tired? Its almost as if someone has drained the life right out of you," he said lowly.

YOU!!! ,she wanted to scream. Every bit of this pretend relationship was draining the life out of her. She was pretending to be something she wasn't and pretending to have feeling that she didn't know anymore. Nothing she felt for Ron held a candle to what she felt for his enemy. And the worst part was she couldn't change it even if she tried.

She was caught. She was a fly in a spider's web. Draco was moving in for the kill, and she was helpless against the silvery strands of seduction that he pulled and plucked, manipulating her against her will to love him. She shivered at that thought. Ron tried to hug her close, but she shrunk away. She stood up and put her had to her forehead.

"Ron, I've got a terrible migrane," she said, not having to fake the pain in her voice.

His brow wrinkled in sympathy. He stood and hugged her close. Hermione buried her face against his chest and clenched her jaws in frustration. She couldn't get rid of him. Couldn't he understand that she wanted to be alone? He kissed the top of her head. Hermione let tears well up from anger. She was learning to be a very good actress. She looked up at him pleadingly.

"Will you be terribly angry with me if I asked you to go?" she whispered.

He looked deflated, but he shook his head obediently. She nodded with sincere gratitude. She turned to go, but he pulled her back. She fought the urge to scream and beat on him until he bled. He reached down, more gentle than he'd ever been and kissed her softly. She held onto it for a moment, trying to feel something, but all she felt was the emptiness in Draco's wake. This wasn't her Dark Pureblood Prince. This was nowhere near what a kiss should be between a woman and her lover. With that thought, she pulled away.

"Goodnight," she said, wishing it was goodbye.

"'Night Hermione," he replied hoarsely, "Feel better . . ."

* * *

Draco couldn't move as he watched the kiss between Hermione and Ronald Weasley. He felt his heart falling onto the cold stone floor, the nausea it caused was almost more than he could bear. He dry heaved. His breathing was almost out of his control, as was his power. He forced himself to clamp down on his emotions. He couldn't hurt this boy because he was with the woman he loved. He refused to be so cold blooded.

He'd never felt so betrayed. He wasn't sure what was going on, but this had been too much today. He looked at the door as someone knocked. Using his powers he swung it open. Harry Potter walked into the common room. Hermione looked surprised and distressed at the same time. He heard something about looking for Ron before curfew. He made his entrance.

Hermione saw him over their shoulders. Harry and Ron hadn't noticed him yet and she wasn't about to draw attention to the way her heart began to beat faster the second she laid eyes on him. He was different somehow. He carried himself like he did before. Like he was changed back. Hermione had a very bad feeling about this. Her heart told her something was wrong. All of a sudden she was terrified.

It must have shown on her face, because Ron and Harry spun at the same time to face him. Wands out they stood protectively in front of her, as usual. Not like she was more powerful than them or anything . . . She folded her arms and tried to for see what would happen. What did happen was the last thing she expected.

"What are you doing in _my_ common rooms, you filthy mudblood?" he asked disdainfully.

Harry looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Hermione felt as if someone had slapped her in the face and punched her in the stomach at the same time. Tears welled up and she gasped for air. She saw no remorse in Draco's eyes.

It was all Draco could do not to rush forward and tell her he didn't mean it and hold her. He held onto his façade. She didn't love him like she'd seemed to . . . how could she if she was kissing Ronald Weasley? No, he would shatter this once and for all.

"And you Potter? Weaselby?" he sneered.

"How _dare_ you speak to her like that?!" Ron snarled. He waved his wand at the same time Hermione grabbed it.

"Don't be stupid, Ron," she whispered, barely audibly, " He's Head Boy."

Ron tucked her to his chest. This was just what she needed: to be shacked up with their worst enemy and her, exhausted as she was, not able to defend herself. Hermione let him support her.

Harry shook his head at Draco; he'd figured it out the second Hermione'd reacted to the comment. Draco could read in his eyes the disbelief and anger. Harry lowered his wand.

"C'Mon, Ron," he said slowly, "She can go to her rooms and he can't follow." Ron nodded.

Hermione turned as if to leave the room as well. As soon as Harry and Ron had gone, she leaned against the doorway to her staircase. Draco's eyes were burning a hole in her back. She tilted her chin down and to the side so she could see his form. She waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she decided to speak.

"You said you'd never call me that . . ," she whispered, "You said I could trust you. At the first test of your changes, you fail . . ." He wanted to scream his apologies. He held them in

"I guess that fits in nicely doesn't it? I fail to show you I've changed . . . you fail to mention that you don't really love me the way you acted to?" She spun to face him.

"I never acted like I felt any way other than I really do!" she hissed. She had no strength to fight it. He'd seen their kiss. That was the only explanation.

"You say that, Granger, but you were kissing my enemy. I had no idea you were such a good actress."

"I wasn't acting with you!" she said, her voice breaking.

"No? And I suppose he forced that kiss on you, did he? He had to hold you close too didn't he? Yeah, Granger I can see that plainly. I'm not blind." She shook her head in protest.

"I wondered how this was going to be, Granger, but now I see things haven't changed after all." He turned to walk away. She grabbed his arm. He spun toward her, his eyes wild, they sobered at the sight of her face.

"Let me go, Granger," he hissed venomously, "Let it all go. Then you can go have twelve red headed babies of your own that you have to make clothes and use hand me downs for. Oh and worry that me and mine are coming for you. That's what you planned before this summer isn't it?"

"How dare you!," she said slapping him in his face, "You are vile and cruel." He jerked free. One side of him wanted her to hold him and tell him it was alright. The side that was controlling him at the moment, the side that wanted to kill her, kept his anger boiling. He turned on his heel and walked away from her.

"You're evil, Malfoy, just like I always thought. I hate you!" she shouted as she ran up to her bedroom and flung herself onto her bed.

She bawled herself to sleep. The love she'd found had all been a lie. It had been torn apart by a misunderstanding. But how would she have felt if he had been kissing Pansy Parkinson, who had turned quite pretty over the summer. She'd have reacted the same way. Only where Draco had restrained himself in that moment . . . the moment the urge to kill her had flashed in his eyes . . . she'd not have walked away.

* * *

Draco sucked air into is lungs as if the breath had been stolen from them by some unknown force. She hated him. It was better for them all. It put things in perspective. His parents had warned him, but about the wrong thing. He was something else entirely now. He was a monster that even he didn't understand. How could she have love him? He had deluded himself.

* * *

_Hogsmeade Weekend_

Draco slinked away from the professors and students and teleported away from Hogsmeade entirely. He was about to do something he'd been fighting off since fourth year.

The room was dark, only a ring of daylight lit the gloomy walls. He knelt, eyes closed, head down. His arms were a little further than shoulder distance spread as an offering to Him.

Voldemort circled his newes apprentice. The action made Draco cringe in disgust. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Rise, my new Death Eater," the Dark Lord hissed. Draco did as he was told. Voldemort looked over him at full height. Lucius was gleeful and remorseful at the same time. Draco stared Voldemort hard in the eye. The Dark Lord smiled evilly.

"I sense in you powers that will bring great distruction, Draco," he hissed, " You have potential." Draco nodded dutifully.

"You will be my general . . . my brother . . . my _Equal_," Voldemort said. Draco fought back a shiver. The Dark Lord took his left arm to be branded and placed his hand over it. Draco's wrist was white hot, but he never flinched. He relished the pain for the evil he would commit. A serpent tattoo wound its way clockwise around his wrist and up his arm; around his shoulder, then his collarbone then onto his neck. It became a tribal tattoo covering the right arm and shoulder blade.

"You are marked as my sentinel, my equal. All the death eaters will follow you, my brother." Draco ground his teeth and uttered the words he'd sworn to himself he'd never say.

"Yes, my Lord, I am at your service." He was gone in another instant. Now Hermione would hate him forever. Hopefully she'd be safer now.

* * *

A/N: So sorry guys! I've been so busy with the Holidays and sick babies and husband and myself and caught up in the Twilight books. Yes I admit that I copied those lines from Twilight, though at the time I had no idea what Twilight was!!! I had heard someone saying something like that in Walmart one day and When I read ya'll's reviews, I said, nuh-uh, I didn't copy nothing then I read the books so Sorry about that! Thank You all for the reviews and the constructive criticism because without it I wouldn't have found another awesome saga of books! I hope this redeemed my story! Thanks Again!


	8. Chapter 8

Ron and Harry watched from across the courtyard as Hermione made her way slowly toward them. There were rings under her eyes; her skin was pale. Her hair had lost all bounce and brightness and her honey golden eyes had lost their sparkle. They were worried.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as she entered the courtyard from the breezeway. She made her way mechanically toward them. Ron automatically reached out for her as she came close. She let him pull her down beside him. Why had this kindness come too late? Why couldn't he have been like this before she'd been involved with Draco. The thought of his name made her stomach heave. It had brought back memories flooding back of the moments they'd shared when she'd found the _real_ Draco Malfoy. She fought off tears as she sat there under the weight of Ron's arm.

Harry watched silently as Hermione reminisced. He knew who she was thinking about. He knew what she was feeling. He wanted to kill Malfoy for what he'd done to her. He wished there was some way he could make Malfoy pay.

Hermione didn't know that he knew. He refused to mention it to her, for fear of breaking her heart more than it already was. She was his friend. There had to be something he could do. He looked at her dull form. But what could be done that wouldn't break her fragile form any more than the first blow.

* * *

Draco watched from the second story window as Hermione sat with Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. His heart ached behind his care-less act. He wished there was something he could do to change it. He'd said things that hurt her. He'd left her. He'd joined the Dark Lord and sealed his fate forever. Hermione Granger would never have anything to do with him ever again. _I'm Sorry Angel_, he thought.

* * *

It had been weeks since the argument between Draco and Hermione. They had gone about their responsibilities as Head Boy and Girl with no problem or communication. Hermione walked for a few stolen moments by herself down the crowded Hogsmeade street. When the crowds parted, she saw Draco standing there. As if knowing she'd looked his direction, he turned and made eye contact. The air left her lungs and she darted down the nearest alley, which led to the woods beyond.

She clutched at her stomach which was in physical pain. It was so hard for her to see him. She hated everything about him. She hated everything that he'd become since their. . . "break-up". The thing she hated the worst, however, was that she couldn't hate him at all.

It was nearly impossible to sit in her classes and not know that he was invisible somewhere close by. She couldn't even sleep knowing that he was sleeping somewhere through the walls. She couldn't shake the feeling that she should be in there with him. But, on that note, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed inside him. She was almost afraid of him. No. . . she was more afraid of him now than she'd ever been before. With his new tattoos, which she was appalled at herself for noticing, was a change in his entire being.

She leaned against the nearest pine and sank to the ground. Ron and Harry would be looking for her. She'd better pull herself together. She sat for another moment controlling her breathing and her emotions. She was calm, if only on the outside. She headed back toward town. As she'd suspected, Harry and Ron were walking around looking in shop windows. Draco, she noticed, was posed against a wall in the middle of his little pack of Slytherin friends, looking like a Greek diety. He was watching them, as were the rest, but she suspected for different reasons.

As Ron and Harry approached her, sheltering her from their vision, she stole a glance at his face. Something flashed in his eyes as she stared. She couldn't read it. It was a strange jumbled mixture of a few different things. She shut her eyes and pulled herself into Ron's embrace. She wished she could erase all her memories of him. She knew it was impossible.

* * *

Harry had no idea whatsoever what he was doing outside the Head Boy/Girl Commons. Hermione was with Ron in the Library trying to explain a few things to him that would definitely improve his marks. He had no real reason to be here. He was here for Hermione. That's all he could deduce from the hairbrained idea. He knocked before he could talk himself out of it. The portrait swung open.

Harry entered cautiously, his wand in his sleeve, just in case. Malfoy was sitting in front of the fire, reading something, though Harry cared not what or how important. Malfoy didn't turn or acknowledge his presence. Harry narrowed his eyes. He was beginning to wonder if that portrait was malfunctioning somehow, if that was even possible.

"No, Potter, it is not broken, I opened it," Malfoy said, not moving a centimeter.

Harry stopped mid stride. He drew himself up to full height. He was prepared for a fight. Malfoy surely wouldn't back down, especially not here . . . Harry was going to be expelled or worse, he could feel it.

"What is it you're doing here, Potter?" he asked coolly.

"I know about you and Hermione," Harry said simply. Draco did flinch slightly at that.

"What's that filthy little witch filled your head full of," he replied, still reading.

"She deserves your respect, Malfoy, even if _you_ don't feel that way." Draco smirked.

"And I suppose you're here to defend that honor and force me to play fairly with our little muggle born?" Harry readied himself.

"Yes." Draco actually laughed now. He stood up to face Harry.

"Harry," he said, less tauntingly, "I have no desire to fight with you. I really have no desire to see you harmed, though other . . . loyalties . . . wish otherwise. Until you attack me, I won't hurt you. You have my word." Harry scoffed.

"Hurt _me_?!" Harry huffed. Draco gave him a meaningful look.

"Harry, I want to know what you're here for so that you can leave and the itch to harm you and your friends will disappear with you."

Harry frowned, his temper flaring. Draco was treating this like a civilized conversation. He might as well keep the peace at the moment. However much it disgusted him.

"Hermione told me about you two. . . well, not you, but about the other . . . you get the point. You left her, Malfoy, destroyed her. Haven't you seen her lately?" Draco cringed inwardly, his poker face in place.

"I haven't paid attention," he lied.

In truth, Draco looked at her every second she was in his view. He saw the ashy paleness that replace her usually sunkissed blush. He saw the darkening circles under her eyes. He saw the thinness that was eating its way through her already tiny body. It murdered him every time he saw it. The remorse he felt was nothing to the emptiness her absence left. He was hurting too, but inwardly. He couldn't afford to let anyone see how much she meant to him. Especially not now when she held so much to lose if it went badly or was found out.

"Malfoy, I don't know your story, but I was here when you broke her heart. I'm not asking you to pick up the pieces, Ron can handle that, just bring her light back. Do something. You can't just let her erode like this." Draco turned away.

"You have no idea how much better off she is now, Harry," he said quietly. Harry squashed his ego down as far as he could stomach.

"Draco," he almost choked, the name tasting vile and foreign, "I'll beg if that's what you want. Lie to her. Give her a reason . . . something so that she'll get over it and commence to hating you like she used to. If she's really better off without you, do what it takes. If you decide otherwise, tell her to get rid of Ron and be with her. But _really _be with her. The charade she's been playing at is part of what's wearing her down. She has been hating herself for leading him on and she misses _you_, for some odd reason. She doesn't love him, Malfoy. She loved _you_. . ." he trailed off. Draco was rigid as a boulder. Harry shook his head and began to leave.

"Alright," Draco said as Harry was about to open the portrait hole, "I'll say something. I don't know if it'll help, but I'll try. That's all I can promise." Harry sighed. He was amazed at this new Draco. Maybe Hermione was right after all . . . Maybe he had changed.

"Will you shake on that?" Harry asked seriously. Draco turned and shot him a look of disbelief.

"I'll stake my honor on it," Draco said, approaching him and shaking his left hand firmly.

Harry's scar began to burn. He noticed the tip of tribal tattoo on Draco's neck move, if only slightly. Maybe he'd imagined it. He hoped he imagined it. Draco was aware of the tingling he felt when the tattoo moved. He released Harry's hand before it was noticed. Harry lingered, suspicion engulfing his eyes. He nodded curtly with pursed lips and left the room. Draco ground his teeth momentarily. He hadn't been given specific orders yet. He didn't want harm to come to anyone here at Hogwarts. He was sure, however, that his orders would include that. He began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into and regret it a great deal.

* * *

Hermione wrapped a towel around herself and went to her bed. The bath had helped. Warm water always helped, but only on the outside. Inside she still felt physical pain from Draco's absence . . . _her_ Draco, that is. She dropped the towel and reached across the bed for the satiny night gown Ron had given her. She felt a familiar electrical stir in the air.

Her eyes widened as she turned to face Draco head on. His face had paled and he stared hard at her, swallowing as if it was difficult. It was then she remembered that she was stark naked. She screamed and covered what she could with one hand and pulling the gown over her head with the other. It was the first real time she'd felt anything but dullness and pain since their last conversation. She savored it.

"What are you doing here," she screeched. His mouth bobbed open and shut as he ran his hand through his hair and diverted his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said convincingly. She raised her eyebrow.

"I hope so. What do you want? Wait . . . how are you in here? And how, pray tell, did you get around the disapparation rule?"

"One, I _am_ sorry, two we need to talk, three when you teleport all spells are null and void because you don't use the door or passage ways, and four Teleportation is _not_ considered disapparation since it is a rare gift just like many of the ones students here discover." She was dumbfounded, but still fuming. Anger felt good. She'd almost forgotten what this felt like.

"Oh . . . well . . . get on with it, Ron's on his way."

Draco's mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed at that. He realized it too late and put on his poker face. Hermione waited impatiently. It was good to know she could get to him in some way, though she'd never admit to herself that she wouldn't use it. He crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn't help but think how sexy he looked standing in her room, but they were wasting time. Ron really would be there soon, but only to borrow a book. Draco had no need, or as far as she was concerned no right, to know that little detail. Or, of course, the detail that she was still "torturing"(and that's a direct quote) Ron with abstinence.

"Fine then. I wanted to explain a few things to you since, obviously," he said looking at her critically, "your health has deteriorated since our last little conversation." She opened her mouth to deny it or scream, she couldn't decide which. All that she knew was the she was appalled by his arrogance. He held up his hand for her to wait.

"I'm not attributing that to our . . . _affair_. . . but something has definitely change in you, Granger." She could see the sense in that.

"Since when am I not Angel? It must be something personal because when you didn't know who I was there was no problem with me being muggle born." She had him there.

"Since things have changed, _Hermione_," he retorted pointedly.

She walked toward him and stopped. She wanted to punch him again or slap him again or _something_. Every ounce of her wanted to jump on him and beat until she saw blood, and maybe longer than that. She stopped. She was so angry – so hurt – that he would consider what they'd had so trivial. She knew better.

"What has changed so, Draco? What's so different?" she asked. He looked her straight in the eye.

"I'm dangerous for you. So dangerous," he almost whispered.

She wasn't even sure she'd heard him. Her eyes trained on his tattoo. In the T-shirt he was wearing, she could see the whole tribal sleeve. It was moving. She was frightened. Tattoos weren't supposed to do that. Not even magical tattoos did that. Something was terribly wrong with the man standing in front of her.

He didn't flinch as he had when Harry had noticed it. He wanted her to see it. He

wanted her to be scared of him so that she'd stay away. She approached again, less heatedly this time. She was so close that her cinnamon apple scent filled his nostrils and overpowered his sensed. This, he hadn't planned for. She was supposed to throw all manner of things at him and scream, not come so close . . . so intimately close. He was very aware of her body under the satiny sheath she wore. He wanted nothing more than to rip it to shreads and make love to her on her bed for hours, but he kept hold of himself.

Hermione felt his tension as she reached out to touch his arm. She wanted to make sure it was real. She knew what it meant if it was, and she wasn't sure she was ready for this realization.

"Dangerous?" she asked in a whisper.

"Very," he rasped. She looked up into his eyes.

They were the same molten mercury, the same intense feelings poured out. She was swept up in the feverish feelings that ran through her. Draco could almost immediately see the color and health come back into her body, but her eyes gave away the fact that he held her heart. She knew him like no one else and they'd only been together a short time. She knew what he'd done; if she didn't she would. He pulled her close and kissed her gently; she latched around his neck and intensified the embrace. He pulled away.

"Hermione," he said, fear in his eyes now, "I _can't_ be with you. There are things . . . you wouldn't believe me if I told you." She frowned. Before he knew it, she'd punched him in the nose . . . again.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he yelled, "What was that for?" She was enraged.

"I loved you Draco! I gave you every bit of my being! You owe me an explanation and I am going to get it one way or another!" He held up his hands as she grabbed the fire poker.

"Hermione! Stop. I am beginning to lose control. I don't want to hurt you! That's why I can't be with you!" She looked astonished.

"Hurt _me_?" she screeched, "It's a bit late for that!" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was getting a migrane.

"No . . . Hermione—"

"Then what! Just tell me, Draco!" He looked her in the eye again.

"I'm a Death Eater, Hermione!" he blurted.

Hermione turned paler than before and dropped the fire poker. He reached for her. She jerked away. She looked at his tattoo. It was in the correct place, but it was different. It moved, but she attributed that to the lighting. He stepped toward her. She held out her hand and clutched her stomach. This was worse than before. He'd joined a cult that wanted her and her kind dead. Because he'd seen her kiss Ron, he'd joined the army of darkness that would lead to her death if the war was lost. She was suddenly more afraid than she'd ever been.

"Get out!" she whispered. He opened his arms and faced her full on and opened his mouth.

"Get _out_!" she said loudly. His face was a mask of agony. Tears welled up and he lifted his chin.

"GET OUT!" she screamed, throwing the nearest heavy object at him.

He evaporated into thin air, leaving only a black mist behind him. Hermione sank to the floor and grabbed the nearest bowl like object and began to vomit. She was in love with a Death Eater. She felt faint. She lay on the floor at the foot of her bed and cried herself to sleep more violently than she had every night they hadn't spoken. She had to give him up. There were no questions, no answers . . . there was nothing she could do. It was over. The best thing in her life had turned to the worst. It was over.

* * *

Voldemort smiled evilly at the pain young Draco had caused the mudblood girl. He could not know their connection or hear their conversation. Draco shut his mind off unconsciously with enough power to deflect even the most skilled of legilimens. All would reveal itself in due time, however, of this Voldemort was sure. Draco was every bit the leader he'd wished for. Everything would work in his favor, he was sure of it.

* * *

A/N: Wow, another chapter so soon? I surprised myself on this one. They're getting longer and longer too! _Black wolfgirl2722_: You were my first reviewer an I appreciate very much that you keep reading my story and pumping me up with your reviews Thank you so much! _: _thanks for your support! A few of my usual readers are either late reading or haven't reviewed(sniff, sniff) but I do have a new one:BroadwayNightOwl: I just have a few things to say to you: 1.) I wasn't comparing Hermione to Taylor Swift . . . I said her hair. Draco is running around London quite a bit, you think they don't have posters with this girl's name on it? WRONG! So even if they don't listen to her music or have no idea who she is, they're gonna remember the name and face. 2.) I understand that you were trying to be critical, but since I notice that _you _haven't written any thing that I can find, I'll appreciate you not telling me that I _ruined MY _story. Obviously It didn't ruin it for everyone because people keep reading it and giving me great reviews! And for _your _future reference: I said constructive criticsm NOT bald face trying to degrade MY talent because you have none of your own! So Thanks! If you have nothing positive to say to go with all that negative jealousy, don't say nothing at all! To everyone else: I apologize for that last, but I felt I needed to make a point. I think I've proven that I can take CONSTRUCTIVE criticism like with the Twilight thing. I appreciate things like that so keep it coming! Other than that, I'll post again soon. . .


	9. Chapter 9

Ron was shaking in rage and pain. He almost refused to believe what he'd heard coming from Hermione's door. In love . . . _his_ Hermione . . . with Draco Malfoy . . . and Malfoy was a Death Eater (which was more a confirmation than a surprise). They'd always suspected it. They'd never been able to prove it . . . part of them had never wanted to. Ron paced the hallway. He'd punched the ancient bricks stupidly; he was almost certain that his hand was broken.

Part of him wanted to deny it. Hermione loved him. They'd known that since he'd been so jealous of her Hungarian Yule Ball date Viktor Krum. How could it be real? In his heart, though, he knew it must be. Was this the reason for her abstinence? Was she trying to keep him from finding out she was doing that dance with Malfoy? He wasn't certain about anything. For all he knew, Hermione had had something up her sleeve for Malfoy and he'd heard the end when it went wrong. He'd give her the benefit of the doubt . . . for now . . .

* * *

Hermione lay in bed as sick as she'd ever been. She was more miserable now than she'd ever been before. Part of it was that she'd found out Draco's true allegiance. The other part – the bigger part – was devastated that she could never be with him even if she wanted to. This was why he'd articulated the most hurtful description of her lineage. Those genocidal maniacs that wanted death to fall on all muggle borns of the wizarding world were influencing him. She had even forgotten about Ron. She never realized that he hadn't shown up after all.

* * *

Ron had been avoiding Hermione for three days. It was getting closer to Christmas and she was _supposed_ to go to the Burrow in quite a few weeks for the Holidays. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but even less sure she wanted to go where everyone was so happy and positive all the time. Everyone except Ron, anyway. Hermione wanted, for once, to wallow in her despair and anger without someone trying to coddle her or make her feel better. She was much stronger now, stronger than she'd been since Draco had cracked her heart. She couldn't consider that broken since what had happened now was ten times worse. She'd only thought the bottom fell out last time. She spotted Ron in the courtyard and walked toward him with meaning.

He glared at her for a moment while she walked. She was better now. Maybe that's what it'd took to fix her. Maybe what had taken the toll on her before was that her scheme was going wrong. She _did_ tend to freak out after all her careful planning went to waste. Not quite the extremes she had this time, but she did have psychotic tendencies as well. Maybe what he'd heard had been a well practiced plan to reveal Malfoy's true nature. She was right in front of him before he knew it.

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and hauled him toward an empty classroom on the first floor. She'd decided to fix this once again. Because their relationship started with friendship was one reason, but mainly because she was afraid she'd be alone for the rest

"What's happened to us Ron," she whispered, her back to him. He felt a little guilty.

"I . . ," he started. He didn't have an answer anymore than she did.

"What are you so angry about this time?" He rubbed his hand through his hair.

"Nothing . . . forget it, love," he said against his will. He couldn't help himself.

"Ron . . . I think we've fallen out of touch lately and I wish we could fix it. I've . . . I _can't_ ever love anybody else," she amended more to herself than him. His temper flared and broke his hold.

"I'm sure that's what you told Malfoy too, isn't it?"

Hermione's heart stopped. How did he know? Had Harry betrayed her? That had to be it. She composed herself and whipped around to face him. She let her unresolved anger with Draco gush out.

"_What_ did you say?" He didn't answer, just stared accusingly.

"How _dare_ you accuse me of that Ronald Weasley! And with that . . . that . . . vile loathsome evil snake! _Why_ would you even _come_ to that conclusion! _Who put that in your head!_" she yelled all at once.

She hoped it would block out the doubt from his mind. She couldn't afford to lose him too. Even if he was her second choice, he really loved her. She could deal with that. He already loved her enough for the both of them. Hopefully that would be enough to save it. At least he would be happy; she could be content with the first runner up. . .

"Because I heard you, Hermione!" She almost didn't understand what he meant.

"Wha—Ron! What . . . How much did you hear?" Hermione was worried that this would take an even worse turn.

"Let's see, shall we? Um . . . I heard you say you loved him . . . there was that . . . and . . . oh . . . Malfoy's a Death Eater, like we didn't already know that . . . and I heard you to tell him to get out. Did I miss anything?" Her mind tore back to the kiss . . . their last kiss . . .

"No," she lied. She looked at Ron in the eye. Her thoughts over Draco pushed to the back of her mind.

"Ron, I_ love _you. I don't have feelings for _Malfoy_," she forced the word to come out with disgust, "Nothing happened between us! I was trying to . . . get information . . . for . . . the Order . . ,"she tried to convince him, as well as herself, "It wasn't quite what I wanted . . . but . . . I _think_ it'll give insight . . ." She was lost in the lie. She prayed he wouldn't ask her to repeat it, because she knew she couldn't.

"That's what I thought all along, Mione . . . I was testing you," he said with a guilty smile. "Now we can get back to us . . . we can work things out without a double life for you. I _knew_ you would _never_ betray me."

She swallowed hard with guilt. That was it. She would _not_ go _anywhere_ near the Burrow for the holidays. She'd decided. She could fake her love for Ron in front of her schoolmates, but his family . . . knew her better than that. . . She couldn't afford to let herself be caught in those lies. She needed time to prepare. Little did she know, a little wrench would be cast into her agenda.

They'd left the classroom and, holding hands and smiling, made their way to the great hall. Harry noticed immediately the difference in the two "happy" lovers. His plan must've worked after all. They seemed content enough; they looked at each other the way they had before Draco was ever a factor. Hermione, if a bit strained, was falling back into her place as Ron's only love.

Between classes, the halls were packed to their limit. Ron was headed for Hermione when something brushed his feet out from under him. He fought his robes laughing, thinking it was Harry or one of the other Gryffindor's playing a joke, as they so often did. Hermione watched anxiously as the person responsible made his way slowly thorough the crowd. Ron had gained control of his robes and looked at the feet that stood before him. Following them up he saw the face he despised more than anyone else in the world. Malfoy was smirking at him.

"Weasley, we have some _buseiness_," he said pointedly glancing toward Hermione, "to discuss. If you'll follow me, please." Ron fell in a heap. Hermione started forward. Harry stopped her.

"Hermione, do you want _everyone_ to know what's been going on? I know you must've lied to Ron. Do you want that undone?" She shook her head and let Harry restrain her.

Ron jumped up and followed Malfoy's lead heatedly, wand in hand. Everyone cleared a path to the empty classroom. Malfoy was waiting, back facing Ron, as he entered. He never moved. Ron slung a curse at Malfoy's back. Malfoy spun and blocked it.

"Not very nice, Weaselby? I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt _me_?!" Ron scoffed, slinging another one at him. Malfoy dodged it easily. _Why the bloody hell does everyone keep saying that!_, Draco thought irritably.

"What's wrong Ronald? Why are you attacking me?" Ron contemplated that question. He wasn't sure himself.

"Well, since your temper tantrum seems to be over . . . I have something to saddle you with." Ron was cautious as he listened.

"You're not much on talking are you?"

"Not with Death Eaters, no," Ron retorted. Malfoy's eyes showed signs of rage. He'd been found out.

"Well, as it were, that's exactly what this is about."

"What?"

"Your . . . lovely lady . . . Granger. She's the potential to pose a threat toward us. I want you to watch her. Protect her. I'm giving you fair warning. This is a one time deal. I don't want her to die for no reason. It's being debated at the moment whether they will capture or obliterate her. That is all," Malfoy said heading toward the door.

"Wait," Ron said, "Why would you help her Malfoy?" Draco tilted his head.

"That's not your concern, Weasley. You've been warned."

* * *

Draco was in their common room reading by the fire again. He barely flinched as someone slammed in the door. No prizes guessing who _that_ was. He'd severely pissed Hermione Granger off and he knew it. He'd convinced himself that it was for the best and he was numbed to her charms. Nothing could make her want him ever again. Of that he was certain.

"_Malfoy_!" she screeched.

He never moved. His reading façade wasn't winning her over as she stood staring at him expectantly. If he could avoid her eyes, he was safe. That was his weakness. When he looked into her eyes, he could see her soul. The good in her was frighteningly bright. The stains he'd left on her heart were evident also. It burned him almost physically. He feared that more than he feared his murderous leader. Their plans had yet to be decided, but Draco knew instinctively they had something to do with Hermione. He was afraid for her.

Deciding it was better to listen than to talk, he casually laid down the book and stood to face her. He wasn't expecting the stunning spell to hurt quite so bad. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't the spell that had hurt him, just the stone wall he'd been sent crashing into. He jumped lightly to his feet and looked at her again. She approached with a meaning and that meaning was to kill . . . or seriously maim.

"How _dare_ you threaten me!" she yelled. He was amazed at the volume her tiny body was capable of even to that day.

"I didn't threaten you, Her – Granger!" She flicked her wrist and Draco was swept up just as Ron had been that morning.

"Didn't threaten me?! I suppose telling Ronald that I was going to be captured or obliterated doesn't count as a threat? What was it, _Malfoy_, a promise?" Draco shook his head exasperatedly.

"I was _protecting_ you, Granger! _Warning_ your 'lover' to watch your back! I don't want anything to happen to you!" Hermione balked a little. She wanted so badly to believe him.

"Why?"

"Because – If I told you, you wouldn't believe me . . ."

"Malfoy –" she started.

"Because I love you Hermione," Draco snapped. He couldn't hold it in anymore. Everything came crashing out at once.

"I've loved you since I kept you from falling. I loved your smile . . . your scent . . . your ever changing hair even. I loved you every moment of every day that we've been here. I've wanted you in my arms and close to my heart since the day I found out that you would be so close to me at all times. I wanted you to love me. I never wanted to hurt you, and I did over and over and over and I'm sorry, Hermione! All I want now is for you to be happy! That's all! Even if I go mad with jealousy at ever touch and every kiss. Even if I have to die because I failed in any mission that would cause you or anyone you loved any harm! I won't hurt you again. . ."

Hermione was speechless. He was so close now. He'd traveled across the room during his speech and gently shook her. She'd never expected "I love you". She'd expected something stupid. Some double edged sword. He _loved_ her. Maybe more than she'd ever love him, but he _loved _her. Hermione couldn't stop herself as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard and passionately.

Draco _didn't _stop himself as he lifted her off the ground and teleported them in between his black satin sheets. Hermione whimpered as she realized where they actually were. She rolled him onto his back and kissed his lips with a hunger she never knew she had. His arms held her close and his hands were knotted in her hair. She sat astride him and removed her shirt. Draco smiled evilly and dissolved their clothes all-together. Hermione froze. She stared at Draco and his impishly innocent grin.

"Not much for foreplay, are you?" Draco laughed, pulled her down into his arms and laid her gently onto the bed beside him.

"Hermione, I'm not going to do anything for the next twelve hours but make love to you."

* * *

The rain fell angry on the roof of Draco's room as Hermione slept on his chest. He'd never felt like he did in that one moment after any of the other times he'd been with women. There had been quite a few to be honest. He felt guilty, however that she'd been a virgin. She'd insisted, though, that this was what she'd wanted. Draco held her gently while she slept. He kissed her head and wished that he never had to let go. He did have to let go though. He'd have to stay away from her from now on, if only to protect her.

He was sure the Dark Lord knew what she was and what she meant to him now. He was sure that he would try to do something to her because she was a distraction and she could possibly turn him over to the side of good. He clung to her in that moment. He never wanted to let her go. He would do what it took to keep her alive and happy, that was all . . . that was a fact. She stirred and looked up at him.

"What time is it?" she asked quietly.

"You can stay a little longer," he whispered, "we don't have to be to class for another few hours. Rest." She smiled.

"I don't want to rest," she said, lightly touching his lips. He grinned wistfully.

"Hermione, there are things we need to make very clear right now." She stiffened.

"Draco, please don't turn into that hateful person now. Please don't tell me this is all you wanted because I know it's a lie." He pulled her over onto his chest and made her look at him in the eye.

"You _know_ that's not what I wanted. I _wanted_ to be with you forever. If that was a possibility – "

"It is Draco," she argued. He pressed his finger to her lips.

"It's a possibility, yes, but that possibility leads to your death or involvement with the Dark Lord, Hermione . . . Angel . . . I don't want that for you. I want you to be safe and happy, and I'll die to make that happen if I have to." She pulled away and sat up, hugging her knees.

"You were serious?" He nodded.

"So then," she whispered, "there's a good possibility you'll be killed too." He nodded. She looked him squarely in the eye.

"Draco Malfoy I'm telling you right now: I'll never be happy without you. I can't be happy without you. I've tried. Whatever bond is between us is too strong."

"Be content, then," he begged, "Ronald and Harry will take _care_ of you. They'll make sure that you're okay. I can't just give you the nights here in secret. I can't give myself to you where they can see. Its asking too much for me to put you in danger. Its not fair to you Hermione. I'll love you no matter what you do, no matter who you're with." She nodded as if she'd thought of a compromise.

"I'll be content. I'll be taken care of. I'll agree to this, Draco, but only until this war is over. When its over, I'll be waiting. That is provided you don't kill any of my family and friends." He smiled at her grim sense of humor. He kissed her hand and flashed her into her room so that she could arrange herself for the rest of the day. He was content with their agreement. She would be safe and he would die for her. That's one thing he was sure of.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for your great reviews! I appreciate ya'll reading this! This story is taking a turn even I never expected! I don't know how that keeps happening lol. . . Anyways hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter has a twist . . . Fun fun! I'd love to hear your constructive criticism and your thoughts on what you guys would like to happen, cause I don't even know yet! Thanks again!


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione wiped her face for the thousandth time. She had been sick for the past two weeks all day long. She couldn't figure out why that was. Everything smelled funny. Everything tasted funny. She couldn't hold much down except crackers and water. It was disgusting. She retreated to her bedroom, hoping Draco didn't have any plans for breaking their treaty any time soon. Any other night it would have made her so happy, but tonight, like every other of the last fourteen, she wanted him to keep his distance. She felt weak all the time. . . this sickness was a nasty little bug that she wouldn't wish on anyone. She dozed off in mid thought.

Draco had been watching Hermione for the last six weeks. That girl could not keep herself healthy. He'd been under the suspicion that he was the cause of all her sickness, but now he knew she had a very weak immune system. He had felt the tingling in his arm as soon as he'd woken up that morning. He was being called. He dressed himself manually this time, taking as much time as was possible. He had to prepare himself to see his Lord. How he hated those words.

Draco stood before Voldemort, his expression plain and uninterested. Voldemort stared hard at him. He'd been staring at Draco ever since he'd arrived. They were in the same circular cavern. Draco assumed that this would be Headquarters from now until the end of the war. He realized that it was somewhere near the building they used in the night. The Dark Ones would never admit it, but they were frightened of being found out. Why else would they hide. Draco felt that strange sensation in his head for the umpteenth time and realized, then, that Voldemort was trying to read his thoughts. It was all the young champion could do not to snicker at the weaker power. He knew that he was the more powerful, but the Dark Lord was the more practiced. He knew also that it would be a good fight, but he would eventually lose. There was no point wasting his life at the moment.

Voldemort was wearing his poker face: Smooth, emotionless. What the others did not know would not hurt them. They had no need to know that this young wizard was more powerful than even himself. Draco would not betray him, he was sure. He'd seen the way he'd tortured the mudblood. He could see, when Draco's powers waned in his sleep that he was still torturing her. Draco had the young witch at a point to do anything she was told to do. That was where he wanted her. There had been information passed that she was powerful and cunning and could possibly be of some use before he killed her. She was closely bonded to the boy who lived. The boy, ironically, that he himself had marked as equal. He smiled at his plans.

"We've come to a conclusion about your mudblood witch, Draco," he hissed. Draco refused to show any emotion.

"Death to her then?"

"No, young champion, not death. We have use of her at the moment." Draco fought the flinch.

"What use could a _mudblood_ be, my Lord?" Voldemort smiled.

"On New Year's Eve, that idiot Headmaster will hold a ball to commemorate the anniversary of the founding of Hogwarts. I want her captured when the lights go out at midnight and brought to the dungeons of our castle."

Draco wanted to protest. If he wished her death, Draco could hide her. Not this way. He couldn't protect her from him with so many so close. He'd die . . . they'd turn on her. There was no absolution in his promise that way. He wouldn't be able to protect her if it came to this.

"Why, my Lord, should she be allowed to live, when so many others have died? What makes her so special." Voldemort grinned again.

"Because, my Protégé, she is tightly knit with Harry Potter. There's nothing he wouldn't do to save her."

Hermione flipped through book after book. She had to find some way to help herself. There had to be some way . . . She found tears stinging her eyes. Her emotions were even attacking her now. She didn't see Harry slip up behind her.

"Hi, Hermione," he said thoughtfully. She smiled briefly.

"Hermione, your exhausted again. What is going on with you these days?" She shrugged. She didn't want to discuss this with him. There was only one person she wanted to discuss this with, and he was staring at her from afar.

Draco wouldn't let himself go near her after the last meeting of the Death Eaters. He was afraid that it would move up the deadline. She was so pale. He knew she was eating, since he heard house elves scurrying here and there with trays in the middle of the night. He was afraid that she was eating out of depression. Something was wrong here.

Hermione had finally escaped Harry that evening and decided to read in Draco's usual place by the fire. She felt his presence before she heard his voice.

"Angel," he whispered from his doorway, "Why are you sick all the time. Its not right."

She didn't even look up. She shook her head briefly and refused him any clue. She couldn't discuss things with him and keep their deal. There was no way she was going to make him take himself further away because she couldn't keep her part. She knew he'd assume that it was getting to her that he was so close, but so far. She preferred him to be so close. At least she knew he was real that way.

Draco turned and walked to his room. He knew what she was doing and why. He wished he was so disciplined sometimes. She was extremely stubborn, which helped her out. He was putty in her hands which didn't do the same for him. She'd let him know what was wrong when she was good and ready.

Harry found Hermione in the library again the next day. He sat in front of her, arms crossed, staring. She couldn't help but look up. Harry would raise an eyebrow when she did. He was wearing her down, he could feel it. She finally chucked a book at him and huffed.

"Fine, you want to know so bad! I'll tell you!"

She began with the story of what happened between her and Draco. A difficult thing to do without describing the details and how she felt when he touched her where no one else had. She began to tear up at the love she felt knowing that when it was all over she'd finally have him to herself forever. Harry gaped at her in shock. She shrugged it off and continued her story leading up to two weeks ago.

"Hermione," he finally squeaked, "You know – "

"I know, Harry. Now you can help me."

Ron knew something was up when Harry and Hermione approached him cautiously that afternoon. Before they could tell him anything, the current of students flowed into the Great Hall and dragged them along for the ride. Hermion found herself between the two boys clinging to Harry's hand for support. Ron wouldn't make a scene. She accidentally glanced over to Slytherin's table, where she spotted Draco immediately. He was staring at her too.

She squeezed Harry's hand so tightly that he kicked her foot so that he didn't flinch. She eased up a bit. As Dumbledore took the podium, she reached over and whispered what she had to say into Ron's ear: the whole and entire truth of her relationship with Draco and her sickness and the reason for it. She repeated her apology over and over and fought back tears as she saw him pale with every word that was spoken and began shaking with rage and hurt. She could barely form the words that were the last he ever wanted to hear.

Harry put his arm protectively around Hermione's shoulders, knowing Ron wouldn't harm them both. She sobbed silently as he gathered himself and leaned to whisper a few very nasty words and names and told her he couldn't talk to her for a very long time. He could forgive her, Harry and himself saw the truth there, but at the moment he had to excuse himself before he did or said anything anymore harming to the friendship that they could fall back into eventually. Eventually, however, was a very long time from now. Hermione draped herself over Harry's shoulder and cried before the food appeared and she felt her gag reflex. Harry helped her off the bench and into the nearest bathroom, which neither of them realized was a boy's.

The part they didn't hear was perhaps the most important part of all. In seven and one half weeks, there would be a masked ball to celebrate the anniversary of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In seven and one half weeks, Hermione would be in more danger than she ever had been. In seven and one half weeks, the Dark Lord would force her to deliver Harry Potter to him and then he would destroy her.

Draco paced the common room as he waited for Hermione to appear through the portrait hole. He'd seen the scene that no one else had in the Great Hall and he'd seen that she was stressed and sick when she left it. Harry would deposit her safely, of that he was sure, but he wanted reasons. He wanted to know why the love of his life was so miserable and he wanted to kill the one responsible. He heard the quiet click of the portrait hole closing. She walked in looking relieved. He walked toward her. She held her hand up to stop him.

"Don't break our deal, Draco," she warned. He shrugged it off.

"Angel, you've already broken it. You're sick and unhappy and I want to know why right this mother f – right this minute." She was shocked at his temper.

"I broke up with Ron," she said quietly, "We're not together anymore." He frowned.

"Why?" he growled. In his mind he could picture all the things Ron had done to hurt her.

"I told him everything, Draco. It wasn't right."

"Angel – "

"Draco, please stop." He waited.

"Draco, there's something we have to talk about. I need your help." She cleared her throat nervously.

"Yes?" he asked impatiently.

"You know . . . before . . . when we . . . uh . . ." He smiled, how could he help remembering that night.

"Yes, my love, I remember that quite vividly . . ." She gasped at his forwardness, but continued anyway.

"Well . . . Something happened . . ." He was startled for a moment thinking that he hurt her in some way.

"I didn't – "

"No, you didn't hurt me . . . per say . . . God, you know Harry knows a lot more about you than I gave him credit for . . ." she said, getting sidetracked. Draco reached for her to check for himself. She shied back and got back on point.

"Draco . . . I'm . . ." Before she could finish, he shook his head, his eyes were wide and he gasped. She winced expecting his wrath.

"No?!" he said, barely above a whisper. She nodded carefully.

"Yes, Darling one . . ." He had her face cradled in his hands before she realized it.

"Say it, Hermione," he almost begged. She realized that it was joy causing his eyes to mist over and she relaxed and smiled more brightly than she ever had.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

A/N: How's that for a twist? Technically its two different twists in one chapter, but hey, who'd counting! Ron's finally out of the picture!!! Yay, I know ya'll have been wishing it would happen! I actually caught myself the other day playing HP and the GF on my Xbox and wishing Ron would die. . . Anyways, thanks for your reviews! _Bethany_: Thank you so much! My sister would agree with you, but I've always been so timid with letting people read anything! _Black Wolfgirl2722: _Yay I'm happy you were able to r&r! I'm glad you like it and I hope I can live up to your expectations lol! _Amorreal_: That just goes to show that not even angels are perfect! Thanks to the new reviewers and I just thought I'd say that I'm amazed by the amount of people that have added this story to their favorite list or alerts. Ya'll have no idea how much it means to me. I've always wanted to be a writer, and I think I'm headed one step in the right direction, even if I'm only writing fanfiction right now. . . I hope to be published one day for my own work. . .Thank you guys!!!


	11. Chapter 11

Draco paced the length of his bedroom, hands knotted behind his back. Hermione's news had come as a shock that numbed his logic. It was only after they'd cried and sat together for the first real time in a while that he'd realized what a danger this baby was to her. He couldn't do anything to help her and they would kill his baby with her. There was nothing he could do that would save them; in fact, he'd probably shortened her life span considerably. Draco sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands. He held his hands out and stared at the ceiling.

"Why her!" he'd screamed with all his might.

* * *

Hermione heard the muffled cry in her own bedroom. She clutched her stomach and her forehead creased with worry. She was so happy, despite the obvious loss of one of her best friends. She was a full six weeks pregnant, she'd calculated. She had seven and one half months to go. She was overwhelmed with emotion as she thought about the tiny life that was growing inside her.

Something was wrong with Draco, though. She couldn't ignore that. Before she could get out of bed to make her way to his room, he appeared. His face was tearstained. His eyes were full of anguish. Her voice caught in her throat as she realized that he wasn't crying because he was happy. Had it all been a front before? She reached silently for him. Draco climbed onto the bed with her and laid his head on her abdomen as he wrapped his arms around her. She brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"Angel, I've put you in more danger than you can possibly realize." She didn't know what to say as he continued.

"I was so happy when you told me that you were carrying my child, that I let it slip my mind what that would mean. I've been ordered to capture you, Hermione. Bring you to Lord Voldemort. He wants you to bring Harry to him," he said, his voiced strained almost to tears.

"Hermione, if they find out that you're pregnant with my child they'll torture and kill you to break me. They'll kill our baby, Hermione. I'm not worried about me in the least. If he wanted you dead I could fake that and you and the baby died in the labor and you'd be safe until he was gone. But this way . . ." Hermione was shivering in fear, not for her own life, but for the life inside her. She clutched Draco's head to keep from passing out. He shook loose and stared at her.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice breaking and tears streaming down his face. She shook her head.

"There's got to be a way, Draco." He looked away. He disappeared. She rubbed at her stomach over and over again. She began to hum Twilight and Mist, the theme from a movie she'd seen called _Legends of the Fall_. She'd always thought it was the most beautiful music she'd ever heard. She didn't realize tears were rolling down her face as well.

* * *

Draco paced the office as he waited. How in the world could this man be taking so long. The door clicked behind him. He whirled around to face the Headmaster.

"Professor, I wouldn't bother you without good cause." Dumbledore nodded seriously.

"I know what you've become, Draco. I know what you've been ordered, and I know about Hermione Granger. What could I do to help you?" Draco teared again.

"Save her . . ." The Headmaster put his arm around him.

"There's one way," Dumbledore whispered.

* * *

Hermione was startled as Draco appeared again with Harry. The second of the two looked tired and worried, almost as bad as Draco. Hermione looked at her lover and her best friend. Something was up.

"Hermione, Draco's found a way to help . . ." Draco nodded.

"Angel, it will be frightening but it could save your life and the baby's." That's all it took. She would do anything to save their child.

"What is it? I'll do anything as long as the baby's alright," she said confidently. It was Harry who spoke.

"Draco talked to Dumbledore, Hermione. . . He said there's a spell . . . He'll help you. And Madame Pompfrey will secretly come here and keep an eye on you until you deliver the baby." Hermione was confused.

"Angel, it's a spell to quicken the growth process. Instead of seven and a half months you'd be due in seven and a half weeks . . . And then you'd both die." She opened her mouth to argue.

"No, I said that wrong. You'll both fake your deaths. I can shield you after that. You'll both be safe until I can . . ."

He had to kill Voldemort. Or help Harry kill him anyway. That was the only way to assure Hermione and the baby's safety. In the end they all knew that. It was a stretch, but it was possible somehow. Hermione nodded in agreement. Draco flashed them to Dumbledore's office once again.

* * *

It had been three weeks since the spell was worked. Hermione looked as if she was nearly five months pregnant. Everyone stared. Hermione wore her expanding belly proudly. No one asked who's it was. Harry shadowed her at every possible moment like a mother hen. Draco was nearly as bad in secret. She wasn't allowed to exert herself in any way. Madame Pompfrey checked in once a week with her to assure the baby's health and Hermione's as well.

Draco watched the growth of his child inside the woman he loved. It was enough to bring him to tears. He couldn't hold off the love that swelled inside him when he saw her. Hermione was down right luminous. She sparkled in every light. When they were in their chambers, he always had his hand on her abdomen or cradled her close. It was a strange thing to feel so right when before all he felt was misplaced. This was what he'd been meant for his whole life.

Ron watched from a distance. Everyone whispered that Hermione and Harry had gotten together behind Ron's back. He wanted so bad to correct them, but he understood the danger to her and he'd never risk losing her completely. She gave him pleading looks to understand and forgive what had happened. He so wanted to, but he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

Hermone was sitting in the center of Draco's bed rubbing her stomach in circles and humming Twilight and Mist. Draco watched her from his desk where he was supposed to be doing the homework she'd finished hours ago. She was so swept up in her actions that she didn't even scold him for procrastinating. He turned away for only a moment.

"Oh!" she squealed. Draco was by her side in an instant, completely petrified to touch her, looking from her to her belly and back repeatedly.

"What! Are you alright?!" She looked at him with eyes full of awe. Her hand was glued to one place.

"Draco . . ."

She grabbed his hand and pressed it where hers had been. He felt it then. The tiny methodical thrumming against his palm. He felt like such a crybaby these days, but he had to fight tears again. Hermione's eyes glistened in amazement. The baby was kicking for the first time. It was enough to make it all real. The amazing creature that was growing inside her and the danger that the tiny thing had brought on her. She couldn't think straight as Draco kissed her tummy and laid his head against it. He began humming their baby's lullaby and she thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

* * *

Draco watched helplessly as three more weeks passed. He was finding it harder and harder to tear himself away from her during school hours. Harry had been declared godfather, of course, and he was feeling the excitement as the days wound down. Hermione couldn't even see her feet anymore. The baby was strong and made her weary, but she smiled at every nudge.

She looked eight months pregnant. She was trying to find a dress to fit to wear for the ball, which Draco insisted was a waste of time, since she would be "dead" by then. Seven days and counting. That's all she had. Her baby would be in her arms. She knew somehow that she'd be pregnant during the ball, but she didn't care anymore. She'd come to the conclusion that things would work out one way or another. She'd already sworn Harry to secrecy and said that if something went wrong he was to take the baby and hide him or her. Draco had the feeling something like that was going on. He didn't argue. Its what she wanted more than her own life, and that's what she'd get if everything didn't work out right.

* * *

Hermione's dress was beautiful and silvery white. It had a plunging neckline and and empire waist, and was draped just right so that it flattered her bulbous figure. She was stunningly beautiful. Draco was enchanted as soon as she looked at him. He gently cradled her belly with his hands and kissed her lips. His mask and costume complimented hers just right and was identical to Harry's.

They headed down to the ball. Classical music was spilling out. It was wonderfully delicious. Hermione's smile was brighter than it had ever been before, because tonight, she and Draco could be together in front of everyone and no one would know the difference until after midnight. Draco was extremely nervous about the impending labor. She could pop at any second, but she insisted on going to the ball anyway.

* * *

Ron saw how beautiful Hermione was and decided to bury the knife. He slowly made his way over to her, ignoring Malfoy and stopped in front of her.

"Pregnancy suits you, Hermione." She'd smiled thankfully.

"Thank you, Ron. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that." He nodded.

"Can we dance? Just once, for old times?"

She nodded. Draco tensed, but let her go. She was beautiful swaying back and forth with Ron. Every gesture was evidently friendly. He had let go of his anger, and for that, Draco was greatful. Hermione had missed her friend, no matter what she'd said.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Draco became viciously protective of her and scanned the room constantly for signs that they would capture her. He twirled her around the floor, everyone staring. She smiled and laughed at everything. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Draco relaxed a tiny bit. The countdown began. With every number, the room magically flashed as if in a slow moving strobe light.

_Ten . . ._

_Nine . . ._

_Eight . . . _

_Seven . . ._

_Six . . . _

_Five . . . _

_Four . . ._

_Three . . ._

_Two . . ._

_One . . . _

The lights went dark, all masks came off and Draco kissed Hermione passionately, he didn't care if anyone saw. In those few seconds, he felt her form disappear from his grasp. He could hear the silent screams she uttered. When the lights relit . . . She was gone.

* * *

A/N: I know I'm writing really fast these days! Talk about a cliffhanger! I can't help it I love them! Thank you guys for continuing to r&r I swear ya'll fuel my creativity! _Allison_: Sorry for the torture, but its a necessary evil! You wouldn't read it if it was all obvious and predictable, right? _Black Wolfgirl2722_: I've been meaning to ask you, is your penname something to do with Jacob Black? He was my fave character in the Twilight books and I keep forgetting to ask you . . . Anyways, thanks for wasting your free time on my fic! Flyboys was a good movie, I haven't read the book though! Thanks for the reviews, and yes its very twisted, sorry about that, but it keeps the drama rolling! _Mirukarumi_: Thank you so much! I very much appreciate that! I think you're right about the Harry thing, I see Harry and Hermione's bond as a brother sister thing, so I'm glad you said it that way. I can't believe this story is at the climax point already! I'm wiggin out like where did all the time go! I'm going to be sad to see it end though . . . But all good things must come to an end, I see at least three more chapters, don't worry, and an epilogue probably and a playlist to go with, so I hope ya'll are enjoying it!


	12. Chapter 12

Draco's face was a mask made up of a mixture of emotions ranging from rage to anguish. He was frozen to the spot where Hermione had disappeared. He looked across the crowd, making eye contact with Harry. This snapped him out of it. He and Harry rushed toward the door simultaneously.

"Where is she?!" Harry demanded. Draco could see that he suspected that the baby was an accidental perk in his plan to deliver her to his master. He held his hands up defensively.

"She's gone, they took her . . ." he nearly moaned. He was itching to flash there and send her back, but he'd need help. Harry had to stay away, that was the key.

"I'm not staying here when my best friend and godchild are in danger!" Harry said forcefully.

"If you don't, it will kill her." Harry submitted after those words and they went to prepare: Harry to gather Hermione when Draco brought her, and Draco for war. Someone would die tonight, and it wouldn't be Hermione.

* * *

Hermione clutched her extended belly protectively. Draco couldn't have known that they could do this without him. There was no way he'd jeopardize his own child's life for the dark cause. She had every faith in him. The room was dark. The only light shining through was dim from the window. She sat very still, listening. . . waiting . . .

She'd never admit it to herself, but she was terrified beyond belief, now that the possible threat was a reality. She closed her eyes and thought of the moment she'd fallen in love with Draco. She thought about everything they had overcome to be together up until this point. She thought about her one night with Draco that had resulted in the baby she was carrying. She couldn't believe the spell went wrong somehow. She was literally overdue already. She knew that the baby would come at the right time, she wasn't worried about that part at least.

Hermione heard a click as someone entered the room. She forced her unwilling eyes open to see a woman that favored Draco's beautiful face. She snatched Hermione up by her arm and led her toward the room used for interrogation. Hermione tripped and stumbled the whole way, but she refused to fall. She prepared herself for the worst. The woman's grip was bruising her arm. Hermione endured silently.

The room they ended their rigorous journey in was cavernous. There were three or four stories of balconies above their heads. It was almost some sort of ballroom from past centuries. Everything was grayish and dull.

The woman's grip never loosened as they stood in the center of the circular chamber. Hermione prepared herself for the Dark Lord's entrance. When she saw him, though, the fear that went through her was nothing short of maddening. She began to tremble. Her breath came shorter and shorter until she was sure she'd hyperventilate. Tears gushed on their own. Her restrainer shook her back to her senses.

"Well, well, Hermione Granger," Voldemort hissed, "We meet at last."

Hermione stared into space as he circled her like a predator. She unconsciously shielded her belly with her free arm. Voldemort's gaze followed her every action closely. He glanced down at the place where her baby was kicking and turning in response to Hermione's fear.

"Who's the happy father?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"You'd like to know wouldn't you?" she asked, reminding herself not to make eye contact, "You're wishing it was Harry Potter, I imagine."

Voldemort's eyes sparkled dangerously. She was fiery. He hadn't expected that. Talented, obviously, but not brave. He actually considered giving her a choice in that brief moment whether to live as a Death Eater, or die as the filthy mudblood she was.

In the end, his debate ended in the same decision he'd made before. She would be used as bait and when his catch was safely in his grasp, she would be killed, no matter what a waste it seemed. The child was insignificant to him. Regardless of who the father was, be it Death Eater or Order of the Phoenix member, it would die too. He did not have the patience to wait to see if the child possessed gifts that he could use.

"You're not afraid, mudblood?" he hissed.

"Not of you, not of any of these who follow you."

Voldemort smiled. It _was_ a shame to waste her spirit. She'd be wonderfully driven, especially with the child she carried held hostage against its knowledge. She was stubborn and he could sense the powers she must hold. He _could_ make an exception if he wanted to. Well, that would depend on how well she worked out as bait. If he killed Harry Potter, she'd probably attack to avenge him and he'd have to kill her too. He'd have to plan very carefully how to handle it.

"You should be, Miss Granger. You should be."

"I refuse to fear an organization of dark wizards who hide in the daylight and only sneak out after dark. If you were as dangerous as everyone thinks, there would be more havoc wreaked then the last time your little army reigned."

"Ah, yes, that . . . I must kill your friend Harry Potter if it is to be that way again."

"It's sad to me that you're hindered by a seventeen year old student," she said with a smirk, "One would think that someone with as much power as you're supposed to have would be able to go on without worrying about him." Voldemort restrained himself.

"Well, Miss Granger, I suppose for the moment you may remain intact, however much you taunt me. Narcissa, return her to her accommodations. We have use of her at the moment."

Realization dawned on Hermione in that moment. Narcissa was a very unique name and Hermione had only heard of one. This woman had to be Draco's mother, her baby's grandmother. Dim hope flickered in her heart. Maybe Narcissa would help her. If not Hermione, herself, maybe she would help her grandchild.

* * *

The brisk walk back to Hermione's prison was a blur as she tried to think of the words to convince the woman she was telling the truth. She was almost startled when she was thrust through the open doorway. She spun and clutched Narcissa's wrist with both hands; her eyes were pleading. Narcissa was flabbergasted and groped for words, yet she couldn't bring herself to strike the girl or harm her in an attempt to break free. Hermione was fighting her pride every second she contemplated begging.

"You're Narcissa Malfoy?" she asked desperately.

"Yes."

"You're Draco's mother?"

"Yes."

"Will you help me?"

"I can't – "

"Please, Narcissa . . . Please! My baby is due any minute now! I need your help!" Hermione said in a broken voice.

Narcissa wanted to scrape the girl's hands off her skin. She couldn't bring herself to leave. She had the feeling there was more to this than she knew and she was already intertwined in this girl's faith. She huffed a sigh, wondering why she was about to do what she was about to do. She let the girl pull her into the room, which was quite comfortable to her mind.

Hermione heaved a relieved sigh and released Narcissa so she could close the door. Hermione sank to the same tattered Chais lounge she'd been sitting on when Narcissa had retrieved her. Narcissa turned and approached slowly and regally. Hermione had to give it to the woman: she was just as beautiful as her son. She sat across from Hermione in a worn chair. Her hands folded atop her crossed knees and her eyes narrowed on Hermione expectantly.

"I can't make you any promises, Granger, but I will hear you out, if only that."

"Narcissa, I will have this baby at any moment and I need you to help me."

"Why would you need _my_ help? It was only after you learned my name that you asked for it."

"Because Draco always said you were the only person he could trust."

"How would _you_ know what my Draco says, mudblood . . ."

Narcissa sneered. Even as she did, she remembered Draco's obsession with the muggleborn witch before his seventh year had begun. Color left her face as she connected the two events. She looked down at Hermione's extended belly and back to her distraught face. Could it be?

"You're the mudblood witch? _You're _the one he's been infatuated with since the summer? _You're_ the reason he hasn't been home?" Hermione nodded.

"I'm sorry about that last part, but . . . well, frankly he was afraid this would happen . . . me being captured and all . . . and I am literally overdue at this moment, he cast a spell to progress the pregnancy by the week instead of the month. I should actually only be thirteen and a half weeks. This baby is stubborn, I think," she explained smiling faintly at the reminder of her child, "He was trying to protect me, Narcissa."

"This is insane, Grang – Hermione – He was _ordered_ to bring you himself, but the other Death Eaters at your school thought him distant and evasive about the subject and planned to capture you themselves. He couldn't have known about this, but the Dark Lord will punish him when he does show up, unless he delivers your friend."

"Draco's more powerful than you know, Narcissa. I have every faith he'll be just fine . . . me, on the other hand. I'm carrying your grandchild, Narcissa, and this baby needs your help. I know this is torture to you, because you've been taught that people like me are beneath you, but if you won't help me, help the baby. Please."

Narcissa drew herself up proudly. It was difficult to care what happened to Hermione, but not impossible. Her grandchild, Draco's child, would need her to feed from and Draco would more than likely be devastated by the loss of his child's mother. No, it was easy now that she'd thought of it like that. She hadn't done much by way of her son, on his father's orders, but this was something she _could_ do for him. She would protect Hermione and her baby as best she could. For her son . . .

"I'll help you, Hermione."

* * *

Harry gathered a few things of Hermione's and his own and crammed them into a messenger bag. He figured they could switch clothes every few days and wash in rivers and such. The lighter they packed, the faster it would be. He heard shuffling and a muffled cough, like someone was trying to make their presence known. Turning he found Ron.

"Hello, Harry."

"What do you want Ron?"

"I want to know what's happened to Hermione." Harry turned back to his chore at the reminder of his friend.

"She's been taken by the Death Eaters, Ron."

"What?!"

"You heard me." Ron approached and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I know I've been a bit of a git lately, but I want to help." Harry looked back at him. He was sincere.

"Draco has a plan, but I don't think it'll work the way he wants it to. He'll be distracted. He'll need help. Let's go talk to him."

It was a strange thing to have Ron and Draco in such a close vicinity. No one had attacked yet, only eyed warily. There had been silence since they'd arrived in Draco's rooms. Draco was bustling around packing things in a pack that he was sure Harry, Hermione and the baby would need.

Harry noticed there wasn't anything of Draco's for the baby in case something happened to him in the battle. Silently, he picked up a picture of Hermione and Draco together recently, she was barely showing. He took this and a Slytherin scarf and Draco's crest ring and put it into the bag in front of Draco. Draco faltered a bit and put one hand on Harry's shoulder, smiling slightly.

"Thank you," he whispered before flitting around again. Harry shook his head in worry. Ron stood, hands in pockets, perfectly still and quiet.

"Draco your plan isn't going to work," Ron said after a minute. Draco stopped and whipped around.

"You're not going, Weasley. I can't put you in danger too, for Hermione's sake. I told Harry. It has to be me and me alone. Neither of you can do anything to help. They'll kill you –"

"And what do you suppose will happen to you, I wonder?" They're eyes met and Ron stared hard. He wasn't backing down. Harry stood beside him, both challenging his resolve. He was outnumbered.

"Fine," he snapped, "Let's work another plan out, but this stands as plan B."

* * *

Narcissa led Hermione toward the interrogation room more gently than before, but still briskly. Hermione breathed a bit easier this time. The Death Eaters were assembled in a circle around her as Voldemort made his appearance. She shuddered a little, but she wasn't as afraid as before. He eyed her almost cautiously.

"Well, well, Miss Granger, we seem to be one Death Eater short. And your friend, Mr. Potter, seems to be missing as well. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"N-No," she replied. Had something happened to Draco and Harry? Had Harry done something rash since she'd disappeared after all.

"I don't believe you, Miss Granger." She drew herself up to full height.

"How could I know anything about it? Why would I know where your Death Eater was?"

"_Cruico_!"

Hermione's body writhed and twisted under her. Her legs gave way. She wrenched her arm from Narcissa's grip and grabbed her belly as she crashed to the ground. Her baby kicked a little, but seemed to be unharmed. Hermione fought the urge to scream. She wouldn't show weakness.

"I don't know!" she rasped through clenched teeth.

"_Crucio_!" This time whimpers escaped her lips.

"My Lord!" Narcissa said loudly, "How could you expect your Champion to betray you? Do you honestly think my Draco would go back on his promise to you? Perhaps he is trying to gain Potter's trust to bring him here." Voldemort relaxed his angry expression.

"Take her from my sight."

Narcissa took special care with Hermione after they were out of the sight of the others. Hermione's muscles were aching and her nerves were causing her to shake. Narcissa looked sympathetically at her. Halfway down the hall, Hermione stopped and grabbed her belly. She faltered a little. Narcissa straightened her up and put one hand on each shoulder.

"Is it the baby?" she asked nervously.

"It's coming!" Hermione whispered. Narcissa rushed them to Hermione's prison.

* * *

Draco didn't like this plan at all. There was a good chance that Harry could be hurt and, if he lived, Hermione would never forgive him for that. He agreed, only because they were partially right. He couldn't do it all on his own. Ron gathered the three messenger bags with their things in them and waited for the other two. Draco teleported him to the place Hermione had suggested they meet that first time. Harry and Draco prepared to get to Hermione and the baby. Their adrenaline was rushing as they looked at each other. Their little unlikely alliance was about to be tested, and they could only hope that Hermione and the baby would survive, because they knew that the two of them stood little chance against the numbers.

* * *

Tears streamed down Hermione's and Narcissa's faces as they sat as close together as they possibly could. Narcissa had brought Hermione a white billowy nightgown to replace the shredded formal gown she'd been wearing during the labor. They'd ripped it to mop up the normal secretions of a birth. Neither of them looked like they'd just done what they'd actually done.

Hermione cradled the baby toward her and kissed her tiny head. Narcissa smiled through her tears and stroked a long dainty finger down the tiny pink cheek. Beautiful. That was the only thing that came to mind when she looked down on the tiny life she'd helped bring into the world. She was hugging Hermione close to her side and brushing her fingers through Hermione's newly brushed hair.

"She looks like her father, Hermione," she'd said the first time Hermione had held her.

They agreed on this fact of course, but the tiny little thing had dark curls on top of her head the color of caramel. Hermione smiled wearily. She'd have the same thick mop of curls as her mother. Mother . . . It was strange to think that it was real. Narcissa brushed a few tiny curls back from the little girl's head as her mother cradled her close.

"What are you going to name her?" Hermione's head jerked up at that. She hadn't really considered it. She hadn't really had time. She'd expected Draco to be there with her to name their baby. She looked at Narcissa.

"I'm not sure. Do you have any suggestions?" Narcissa smiled.

"I couldn't intrude on this. This is a decision that you have to make. Draco will love any name you pick, Hermione. I know it." Hermione looked down at the precious bundle in her arms and thought hard.

"Draven. I hope you don't mind."

Narcissa teared again. She'd told Draco if he'd been a girl or he'd had a sister, their name would be Draven. She was almost speechless. This girl was amazing. She could see from these few short hours why Draco was in love with her. She hugged Hermione and brushed her hair back from her face.

"I'd be honored to have her named Draven."

"Draven Jade it is." Draven looked up at her mother with pure jade green eyes and fell into a deep restful sleep, unaware that he father and Godfather were about to fight a battle to save her and her mother's life. _Sleep peacefully, little Draven_, her mother thought, _Anything could happen to us now . . . _

_

* * *

_

_A/N:_ Wow! So we have a baby now! Its winding down to the wire! Hope I didn't disappoint. . . Please R&R!!! Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione had fallen asleep in Narcissa's arms after a while. Draven slept in the basket that Narcissa had found in the closet of the room. Both women were astounded that Hermiones screams hadn't been heard. Narcissa reasoned that they probably thought that she was torturing the prisoner for the whereabouts of her son.

She had no doubt in her mind that her son would be here to claim his little family soon. She was prepared to stand with him to the death. This . . . . muggleborn . . . that he had chosen, she was worth fighting for. Their beautiful daughter was only a perk. Narcissa had bonded with the girl over the last twenty four hours and felt like a new person. She believed that anyone who truly knew Hermione Granger would feel this way. Yes, Narcissa would fight to the death for the girl that her son loved. It was then she realized that she loved her too.

* * *

The Death Eaters were gathered in the circular room as they always were. Voldemort paced back and forth wondering . . . . waiting. Had Narcissa been toying with him? The others grew restless. They subconsciously felt the impending battle.

The atmosphere cracked as the person they were waiting for showed himself. Draco Malfoy stood directly in front of Voldemort's "throne". The Dark Lord drew himself up and turned to face the young Death Eater. Harry Potter stood at his side. Voldemort smiled.

"Good work, young Draco."

Draco forced himself to sneer. Harry grimaced at the all too familiar look on his face. The hair began to stand up on the back of his neck with anticipation. Where were Hermione and the baby.

"Well, well, Harry Potter. You grace us with your presence at last."

"Where is Hermione?"

"She is well kept at the moment. Bellatrix, if you will fetch your sister."

* * *

Narcissa's instincts told her that something was about to happen. She gently laid Hermione down and sat in a chair across the room, just in case. The baby was quiet, thank goodness. Her basket was set beside her mother's bed. Narcissa composed herself as her sister barged into the room.

"Cissy, the Dark Lord wants her now. Draco has delivered the Potter boy."

Narcissa nearly forgot her façade and rushed out of the room. She wanted to tell her son that she welcomed Hermione and Draven. She wanted to tell him everything that had happened to her once black heart since Hermione had confided in her. She held her position, though, protectively in front of the two sleeping beauties.

She turned after Bella had left the room and gently shook Hermione. When the girl's eyes fluttered open, she hugged her close, as if for the last time. Hermione was bewildered.

"He's called for you, Hermione. You'll have to bring Draven, I can't stay to protect her."

Hermione's nerves returned. She was shaking as she cradled her tiny daughter close to her heart. Narcissa helped her up. She leaned on Narcissa for support as they made their way into the interrogation room.

* * *

Draco almost lost control as he saw Hermione enter the room holding the tiny bundle. His mother betrayed nothing to those who didn't know her the way he did. He could see the protective air that she held. She reminded him of a mother beast guarding her young. He wondered how this had come about.

Hermione was weak from labor. She wanted to rush to Draco and present Draven to him, but she knew she could not. It would put Draven's life in jeopardy. Narcissa held her up as they stood so close, yet so far, to Draco.

Harry could see the torment in Draco's eyes. He had not calculated this into his plan, A or B. They were helpless. Harry need only take a few quick steps toward them and the plan was executed. He couldn't bring himself to leave Draco alone. He would surely die if that was the case. No, he owed it to Hermione and the baby to help him as much as possible. He wouldn't make the move. He'd force Draco to bring Ron there and send them that way. It had been deemed too dangerous to teleport Hermione and the baby if she'd already given birth.

Draco waited for Harry to make the move. He couldn't do anything until he had a hold on the newborn. He couldn't gesture it. Hermione and the baby were in trouble, and they were in the way, now, of the battle. He hadn't fathomed that Voldemort would bring them into the chamber where Harry would be.

"I see you've given birth, Miss Granger. And your dear friend is here to meet your child . . . before you die." Draco couldn't restrain himself at the direct threat in Voldemort's voice.

"No," he snarled. Everyone froze: Death Eater and friend alike. The look of pure rage was frightening on Draco's features. The Dark Lord was astounded.

"_What_ did you say, Malfoy?"

"You. Will. Not. Touch. Them."

Narcissa drew Hermione closer. She would shield her as best she could, but she didn't know how fast Hermione could escape with the numbers ill in their favor. Hermione clung to her daughter.

"I wasn't awa—no . . ," Voldemort hissed as realization dawned on him, "tsk tsk tsk, Draco. You've given yourself away."

"As I intended. I won't let you hurt my child or its mother, Tom Riddle. I do not fear you."

Harry drew his wand carefully as he felt the tension grow to a breaking point. Hermione felt Narcissa put herself between Voldemort and the two of them. She backed cautiously toward the wall so that no one could sneak up and curse her from behind. Narcissa moved with her, wand out.

Ron was suddenly at her side, gripping Draven closely and Hermione around the waist. The scene changed dramatically. Ron handed Draven back carefully. Hermione wasn't sure what exactly had happened.

"He teleported me in at the last minute before the battle. He'll do anything to protect you Hermione, including letting me help you. We're supposed to ride those," he answered her unspoken questions and pointing at the two Pegasus not far from where they stood.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he hauled her toward one. He pulled some sort of harness out of one of the three bags he was carrying and secured it around Hermione's shoulder, across her torso.

"For the baby," he said, "He didn't tell me where. He told them." He lifted Hermione onto the white Pegasus and loaded his bags onto himself and mounted the grey. They took off.

* * *

Draco felt their presence leave like air rushing out of his lungs. He had done it. They were safe for the moment. He had only one thing to do to make sure that they'd be safe forever. But would he survive to see them again. He immediately knew why Harry had done what he had done. He wouldn't stand alone, and the two of them would go down in a blaze of glory. What he didn't expect was when his mother took her place on his other side.

It was a moment of shock when Hermione disappeared. Everyone but the three in the middle of the ring seemed to be scratching their heads. Voldemort stared Draco down with rage. There was a bloodcurdling screech as he flew toward Draco and began flinging Death curses everywhere. Harry and Narcissa commenced to cursing and beating back the others, who hadn't been hit by their master's curses.

It was all in slow motion. Draco couldn't hear the sounds around him. His focus was on the vile creature in front of him. Voldemort had seen that he didn't hold a wand, and assumed this was to his advantage. Too bad on his part.

Draco let the power flow into him that he'd held at bay for so long. His whole being practically glowed with power. It was a terrifying sight, even to Voldemort. Harry was distracted for a moment. He was narrowly missed by some red curse flying by his head. Narcissa had yanked him out of the way in time.

"Don't make me sorry, Potter," she snarled.

Voldemort approached as Draco readied himself for a fight to the death. He pushed with his mind and Voldemort was flung across the room with a force that would've killed anyone else. He was down for a moment. Draco heard it then. His mother had been wounded. He spun on the circle of Death Eaters who surrounded her yelling that she was a traitor and flinging the Cruciatus curse at her.

He flung them away the same as he had their master. He was distracted only for a moment. His back had been turned. He didn't see the Killing curse flying at his back. He felt it however as the person who stepped between him and disaster slumped against his back. His heart pounded in his ears as he turned to see who it was. His scream of rage and pain caught in his throat.

* * *

Hermione comforted the crying Draven as Ron built the fire bigger to warm them. They were somewhere across a body of water, which one, she didn't know. She would have frozen had Ron not insisted she change as soon as they dismounted. She hadn't wanted to put Draven down, but he'd been very gentle. She had wrapped the gown around the clothes already swaddling the infant. Ron had shielded them as she fed Draven. She appreciated him at this moment more than she ever had before.

"Thank you."

"What for, Hermione?"

"Everything you've done for me. After everything I did to you, you came through for me and my baby." He nodded, blushing a little. Her old friend was back.

"Can I hold her again?"

Hermione smiled and transferred the tiny bundle into his arms. He would be able to keep the baby warmer than she could. He was engrossed in the jade eyes of the beautiful alabaster infant. He rocked her gently and hummed a lullaby Hermione had never heard before. Draven took to this and slept deeply.

Knowing her baby was safe and happy, if only for the moment, her mind wandered back to Draco and the raging battle that must be going on in their absence. Was he okay? Had anyone been hurt that mattered to her. Her thoughts drifted, then, to Narcissa. She'd bonded strongly to the woman. She sat at the cave's mouth and hugged her knees as her mount nuzzled her hair. She patted her gently. How would all of this turn out?

* * *

Draco shook and fought back the vomit. He had sacrificed himself for Draco. He had died. He wasn't here anymore. They hadn't been close, but the fact that they'd never get the chance made Draco sick. He cried out in anguish.

Draco closed his father's eyes and returned his attention to the fight. Narcissa was in shock, but she fought through it in a rage and killed every Death Eater in sight. Harry was holding his own better than she'd dared to hope. There were several dead around his feet, though the killing would get to him when he was done. Narcissa knew a lot of being an innocent drawn into killing. She'd numbed that feeling long ago, but for Harry it was just starting.

The building began to shake violently. Stones fell from the walls and ruptured through the floor. The entire headquarters was ripping itself apart. Harry and Narcissa finished their killing spree and turned toward the fight that really mattered.

Draco had somehow used his powers to make an impromptu arena of sorts. There was an impenetrable shield in a globe around the two combatants. She was shocked when she realized how many people had been defeated between the three of them. Harry glared on. He helped Narcissa limp closer.

Draco felt the rage consume him. He closed his eyes as they did a complicated and fluid dance of war. His curses brushing past Draco, Draco's grazing his robes. There it lasted for what seemed like forever. He could feel his mother's eyes. He knew Harry's wish that he would kill this bastard. He remembered the tiny bundle in Hermione's arms as they stood helpless and Voldemort threatened him. He felt his father's approval. The only thing he'd ever wanted from his father, and he felt it now as he warred the Dark Lord himself.

One more person would die today. And it would not be him. He let the powers engulf his entire being, turning his skin into a fiber optic lightshow. His eyes were electric blue and snapping with the voltage in his system.

"My father will not die in vain!"

The last look that Draco got of the Dark Lord was a mask of genuine fear. He smiled. Draco destroyed him, though he wasn't exactly sure how that had worked. He didn't even know how he'd killed him. It was a mystery, as the awakening of his powers had been. He knew in that moment that he was here for a reason. He would be the one to guard their world from the Dark ones like Voldemort. He'd do it with pride. He'd do it with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger until the last of them were gone. He'd do it because he had to.

Draco turned wearily to his mother, who crumpled into his arms, and Harry. He took his father's body back to their home and laid his mother in bed. Harry promised to watch over her as he left to find the woman he loved and his child.

* * *

Ron passed Draven back to her mother. He was honestly worried that Draco had gotten himself killed and Harry along with him. They felt a sizzle in the atmosphere. Hermione turned automatically to the chest that had appeared behind her and buried her head. She clasped him with her free arm. He kissed her head.

Tears ran down both their faces as they looked at each other for the first time since the ball. He kissed her gently on her lips and stood back to take her in. Her figure had changed a little since he'd last seen her. He smirked at his little joke. She frowned questioningly.

"Draco," she breathed, "Would you like to meet your daughter?"

"Daughter?"

"Yes, daughter."

Draco held his hands out gingerly for his tiny child. He was stiff as a board and the look on his face was priceless. Hermione busted out into a whooping laugh as he stood posed like he was holding a porcelain doll. For a moment they forgot about the battle and Ron hanging around the edge of the cave. He giggled a little and held her closer to his body.

He wasn't prepared to love someone more than Hermione. He wanted to kiss her perfect fingers and tangle his finger through her curly caramel hair. She was perfection. He looked back at Hermione.

"What's her name?"

"Draven Jade."

"How did my mother end up being your protector? How did you birth the baby on your own?" Hermione smiled wearily at his questions.

"That, my love is a very long story, and I'll fill you in on everything, because now I know for a fact that we have the rest of forever."

* * *

A/N: Sorry, it had to be done. Its not quite over yet, but there's only one more chapter(sniff, sniff) I hope you've enjoyed this so far! I appreciate you taking the time to read it in any case. I hope to write some more for you guys! Thanks so much!!! I'll appreciate your reviews thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

Draco straightened his tuxedo and stared at himself in the mirror. He was almost nervous . . . almost. He thought of his father. It had been more than a year, yet the pain of his memory was still enough to make Draco nauseated. He shook himself as he heard his mother's distinct knocking on his door. He couldn't let her know what had been on his mind. She was still having a hard time with the loss.

Narcissa approached him from behind brushed his shoulders absentmindedly. Draco turned and offered her a nervous smile. She laughed a little at that. Her son was beautiful. He even made muggle attire look halfway normal. She took his face in her hand.

"I've got something I wanted you to see," she said quietly, "I know today isn't really the day, but you need to see it." She handed him a black book.

"Read the page I marked. I'll be waiting outside." She left him to himself.

Draco's hands shook as he recognized his father's journal. He fought to control his breathing. He turned to the page Narcissa had indicated.

_I realized, too late, how much my son meant to me. He's joined the Dark Lord to please me, I'm sure, and I feel as if I've sentenced my only child to death. If I could go back I'd change everything about how I've treated my Boy. As it is, there must be some way to make up for it. I've a feeling that the little muggle born witch they have kidnapped means something to him. I have no idea why, however. If she meant nothing to him, would he not have brought her himself? I will prepare to protect her if need be. I can't tell Cissy, I'm afraid, in case it endangers her life. My love for her is only outshone by my pride in Draco. I wish I'd told him more, but when he began to be distant from the Dark Lord, I knew he was rebelling. I just hope it doesn't end in his death. I love that boy more than he could ever possible know. . ._

Draco hadn't realized he'd been crying until he noticed the drops on the page. It was the closure he'd needed. He dried his face and summoned his mother. She entered, looking pleased. He hugged her gently.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"It was what you needed to let it go," she said, straightening him to full height, "Now! You look handsome, my love. Hermione will be knocked unconscious at the sight of you!"

* * *

Hermione fanned herself to calm the nerves. Her mother was fidgeting with her dress for the fiftieth time that second. Draven was toddling around, trying to eat flowers. She giggled so much. She was such a happy child. Hermione had been shocked that the trauma around her birth and conception hadn't imprinted into her looked stunning in the emerald green bridesmaid dress Hermione had picked.

"Well," Hermione told them, "This is it."

They had decided on a muggle ceremony to accommodate Hermione's relatives. Draco had had no objections. Green, red, and silver were the colors they'd chosen. Slytherin and Gryffindor colors mixed together for the first time they'd ever seen.

Hermione was fighting off the fainting feeling as the twin doors opened into the snow covered garden. The guest were all standing and staring. She felt a bit self conscious until she looked to the end of the aisle. Draco stood confidently waiting. He looked into her eyes and everything else was gone. She had to restrain herself from running to him. She felt the tiny snowflakes falling onto her skin, but she had a feeling Draco had something to do with them.

Draco was fixated on the creature walking methodically toward him. Tears burned his eyes as he realized that after today, she'd be his forever. He could see heaven in her eyes. When she looked him in the eye, he found the paradise that he'd always been searching for. Hermione was the most beautiful mother he'd ever seen. Nothing would ever compare to this day for him.

She took his hands as her father gave her away. She felt the tears well up as she saw the ones glistening in Draco's silvery eyes. They both looked at Draco's father's memorial portrait smiling at them. The ceremony began. Before she knew it, it was time for them to say their own vows.

"Hermione Granger, our first date was on a whim, our second was on a cloud, and ever since I looked into your eyes that first day, I've known we'd end up here one day. I commit myself to you, and to our daughter forever and until the end of time. I love you."

"Draco Malfoy, you were the foulest git I'd ever met before that summer. When I fell for you, I literally fell, over and over again, if you remember. Your absence made me physically sick. I couldn't have gone on much longer when you finally said you loved me. I knew it too, Draco, that we'd end up here one day. We have the most beautiful daughter in the world, and we have every happiness in front of us. I intend to love you until the end of time and beyond. Whether or not you like it." The guests laughed a bit at that.

They were pronounced man and wife, lit their candle and the memorial candle for Lucius. Everyone erupted in laughter as Draven rushed forward in peals of laughter when they started to exit the ceremony. Draco carried the dainty toddler easily and held onto Hermione with his free arm.

* * *

Hermione noticed the identities of their guests at the reception. Ron had brought Luna, an unlikely match, but they had been together for the last few months. She was happy that they were happy together, considering that Ron was at one point the man she'd seen standing at the end of the hypothetical aisle.

Harry was engaged to Ginny, of course. They were expecting their first baby sometime in July, funnily enough. Fred and George were with Angelina and Hannah Abbot. Most of their teachers, Narcissa, Hermione's parents. Everyone had come to see them today.

"Angel, my love," Draco said smiling widely, "Nothing could make this day anymore perfect than it is."

Hermione grinned mischievously. Draven struggled loose and went to dance with Harry. Hermione pulled him closer to her and kissed him softly. She had something to tell him that would make this day better.

"Really?"

"No, nothing . . . well . . . if my dad were here, but that's not something we can hope for, so . . ." She pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear.

"August is a pretty time of year, isn't it?"

"Uh . . . I . . . Suppose . . ."

"Well, it's going to be much prettier this year." He raised an eyebrow.

"Why's that, Angel?"

"Because our baby will be born then, silly."

"Draven's—no!"She nodded.

"We're expecting again . . . we've really got to get a television, my love. . ." Draco let out an excited howl. They danced that night into the mists of a happy forever.

* * *

Draco winced as Hermione clutched his hand with a force he had never figured could come from her tiny figure. She didn't scream as much as he thought she would. Narcissa held her behind her shoulders and let her squeeze her hand as well. The midwife smiled as the pressure on the two crushed hands was released. Hermione slumped onto Narcissa's shoulder, exhausted and relieved at the same time.

Draco cradled the tiny bundled body in his arms. His son had his mother's eyes and his white blond hair, what nearly invisible amount there was. He rubbed the smooth skin on the baby's head. Oh well, it'd grow in eventually. Hermione teared as he handed their son to her. She looked at Narcissa and Draco in turn.

"Shall we name him Lucius, then?"

* * *

A/N: It's over!!! They got their happily ever after after all! I almost want to cry! I hope you guys like the ending, but I left it wide open for a sequel in case I have problems letting go of my favorite characters! Thanks for your reviews and your support! I still expect them on this chapter! I hope to make a playlist to go with it so that you'll know what I was feeling when I wrote this wonderful story! I feel accomplished because I've never actually finished anything like this before, I always get writer's block! So Thanks again! I'll think about a sequel if you guys want it Review and let me know!Good luck and God Bless, Kris


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